


The Flayed Wolf

by ZinniaRoseStark



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, House Stark, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Pre-Canon, Pre-Season/Series 01, Ramsay is His Own Warning, Roose Bolton is His Own Warning, Smut, Violence, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2019-10-27 09:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17764208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZinniaRoseStark/pseuds/ZinniaRoseStark
Summary: After the death of her brother Domeric, Raya Bolton is sent to Winterfell to marry the young wolf Robb Stark. Expecting the worst she's surprised at what she finds there. But it's not all happily ever after. Dark secrets quickly come to light and Robb finds himself having to break down well fortified walls in order to help his wife overcome the darkness inside her. With the threat of war on the horizon, how will the story change now that there's a new player in the game?





	1. Chapter 1

****

Raya Bolton is tired of riding. It’s a seven day ride from the Dreadfort to Winterfell and as much as she hates what’s awaiting her there, the idea of being in a real bed with walls around her is sounding more and more appealing. She’s never left the Dreadfort before, and now she’ll never see it again. Not that she’ll complain about that.

Her father is silent as he rides beside her, as he had been the past six days, only giving orders to the men accompanying them when needed. Raya doesn’t mind that so much. She’s always preferred the silence to Ramsay’s incessant talking. Thankfully, he’s harassing some guards further back in the line and leaving her alone. Since the death of her brother Domeric just two months before, it had forced her father to take on her half brother Ramsay as his heir. Domeric’s death was also the reason they were currently riding for Winterfell. Raya had always figured she would marry a Karstark or an Umber, some lesser lord in the North. But then Domeric had died of some strange illness and now she’s her father’s only bargaining piece.

Why Lord Stark had agreed to her father’s proposal of her marrying his son, she doesn’t know. It’s hard to imagine she’s the only eligible woman worth anything in the North. The lone surviving woman of the Dreadfort. Perhaps that’s why he had agreed. She had stayed alive for sixteen years in a place where women didn’t last more than six. That’s how old she had been when her mother had died of an illness. They had told her her mother had lasted longer than her father’s first wife. She hadn’t even made it four. Perhaps she shared her mother’s strength, and that’s what kept her alive for so long. Perhaps it’s that strength that interested Lord Stark so much.

Whatever spurred his decision, she’s glad she only has another month of seeing her father.

They stop to make camp well after dark. Her father had been pushing them harder that day, wanting to make good time. Six days of riding had been hard on Raya, and she hadn’t been sleeping well. There’s no lock on a tent door, and every little sound has her waking. She’ll be glad once they’re in Winterfell where doors lock and there are guards obeying someone else’s orders at every turn.

“At this pace we’ll reach Winterfell by midday tomorrow.” Her father says, approaching her before she can retire in her tent for the night. “I will have you look presentable tomorrow.”

She nods. “Of course, Father.”

He grips her chin in his hand, pulling her face close to his. His eyes are empty, soulless. His face is a mask of indifference. He’d never looked at her any other way. He never looked at anyone any other way. “Get some sleep too. I won’t have you looking sickly in front of your betrothed tomorrow.”

She nods as he releases her from his grip. “Yes, Father.”

She hurries into her tent, ignoring the gaze burning into her back as she goes. She doesn’t bother dressing down for the night, curling up in the dress she’d been wearing all day. She clutches the dagger under her pillow, eventually drifting off into a fitful sleep.

She’s shocked awake when she’s doused with cold water the next morning. She sputters, sitting up and wiping the water out of her eyes. “Ramsay!”

“It’s time to wake up, dearest sister. Father wants us to get moving soon.” She wants to smack the smile off of his face. She’d only been around him for two months, since her Father had brought him in as his heir, but two months was more than enough time with him.

“Very well. I will be ready soon.” The light in the tent is still dim, meaning the sun has only just risen. She stands from her bedroll, trying to push Ramsay from her tent so she can make herself presentable but he won’t budge.

He grabs her by the arms, his grip like steel. “Wear your hair down. It suits you better.” He pulls her closer, their noses nearly touching. She can feel his warm breath on her face and it sends a shiver creeping down her spine. “And wear the green dress. It makes your eyes stand out.”

He finally releases her, leaving her tent. Raya stays where she is, holding her breath for a few moments to make sure he won’t come back before she relaxes. Her stomach is in knots, not only from her encounter with Ramsay. In a matter of hours she’d be meeting her betrothed finally, after a month of knowing. She’d heard gossip among the serving girls at the Dreadfort about Eddard Stark’s eldest son. She tries not to think too much about what they had said as she dresses. Unfortunately Ramsay had been right, and she chooses the deep green dress and pulls the top part of her hair back in a braid to keep it off her face, the rest she keeps down. She eats a small breakfast, afraid she’ll get sick if she tries to eat anything more as her father’s men finish breaking down the camp. They’re on the road before the hours is up, the sun making its way above the trees.

Raya is glad for the silence as they ride. She tries to make herself calm, but she can’t help the nervous jitters she’s feeling. Her grip on her reigns is tight as she tries to steady her nerves. She won’t show it on the outside though. She’ll keep her head high and she won’t make a fool of herself in front of her father. She still remembers the first and only time she ever did that. He had made sure she learned her lesson. She had Domeric then to help her. Now she is alone.

* * *

 

Robb has hardly been able to concentrate all morning. His betrothed is supposed to arrive in a matter of hours and he’s not sure he’s ready. He had learned about Lord Bolton’s proposal a month ago and his father’s decision to accept. He can’t explain why his father had chosen the Bolton girl to be his wife. He knew it was time for him to take a wife, to make heirs and have a lady to handle the affairs of the house when he becomes Lord of Winterfell. He hadn’t even known that Roose Bolton had a daughter. He had heard about Domeric and his death two months ago. But the news that Lord Bolton had another child was new to him.

“I can’t imagine she’ll be much to look at.” Theon says from the sidelines as Robb and Jon spar in the training grounds.

“Maybe she’ll surprise us and take after her mother.” Jon says, blocking a blow from Robb.

“That might not be an improvement.” Theon laughs.

Robb hardly hears the conversation. He’s too busy thinking about their arrival. His future will arrive in a matter of hours and he doesn’t even know if she’s pretty or not. Many scenarios are running through his head, both good and bad. But a sharp blow from the flat of Jon’s sword drags him from his nervous thoughts.

“You’re thinking too much.”

“Can you blame me?” Robb asks, parrying a strike.

“No. Just hope for the worst and everything else will seem better no matter what happens.”

Maybe Jon is on to something. Maybe all he had to do was picture the worst in his head. For all he knows, she’s expecting the worst too. What if he is the worst she could expect? He tries to push his thoughts down, steadying his nerves as he continues sparring. Just a few short hours and he’ll get all his questions answered.

* * *

 

The fog has cleared by the time they reach the gates, Winterfell looming above them. She’s used to castles but Winterfell is larger than she’d thought it would be. She keeps her composure as they ride in, the Stark family waiting for them in a line in the courtyard. She keeps her eyes down, knowing she may lose her nerve if she looks at them. She’s eager to see if the rumors are true, but she knows better. She dismounts her horse behind her father, sticking her riding gloves in her saddle bag before following him over to the Starks. She stays a few steps behind him, keeping her gaze on her father’s back.

“Lord Bolton.” Eddard Stark shakes his hand. “I am sorry to hear about the loss of your son.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark. Domeric was a strong boy. It is a shame he caught such an illness.” He greets Catelyn Stark before turning to face Raya. “May I introduce my daughter, Raya.”

Raya finally raises her head, looking first to Lord Stark. “Welcome to Winterfell, Lady Raya.” He has a kind smile, and it looks foreign to her to see someone smile genuinely.

Raya drops into a curtsey. “Thank you, Lord Stark.”

Eddard turns to his wife. “This is my wife, Catelyn.”

Catelyn smiles softly at her. “It’s an honor to have you here with us, Lady Raya.”

Raya curtsies to her too. “Thank you, my lady.”

She finally turns to look past Eddard, her eyes landing on the figure next to him. Eddard puts a hand on his shoulder. “This is my eldest, Robb.”

He’s not at all what she expected. He has a kind face, but he holds an air of authority around him. Even if she didn’t know who he was, she could tell he’s a Lord. There’s a softness to his gaze though as he looks at her, stunning blue eyes meeting her own green ones. He’s clean faced, his deep auburn curls smoothed down. She wants to run her fingers through them and muss them. He’s easily a head taller than her, lean framed but strong. She can feel every resolve she’d had about him melting away as he smiles at her.

His hand is gentle as he takes hers, holding it like a delicate flower. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Raya.” He bends down, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His lips are soft, light as a feather against her skin. It sends shivers running down her spine.

“The honor is mine, Lord Robb.” She feels a small smile crack the composure she had dutifully held. The serving girls may have been wrong about a lot, but there’s no doubt he’s a threat to the walls she’s worked so hard to build.

“You must be tired from travelling. Let me show you to your room.” Lady Stark saves her from her thoughts.

“That would be lovely.” She doesn’t turn to look back as Lady Stark leads her away from the courtyard.

“I hope you will be comfortable here. I am sure it will be less of a change for you, being in the North still.”

Raya finds herself smiling again. “I always knew I’d stay in the North when I married. I never imagined I’d be coming to Winterfell, though.”

“In truth it was a shock when Ned agreed to your father’s proposal. Robb had received plenty before, but Ned turned them all down until yours came.”

“It was an equal shock when I heard about the proposal and that Lord Stark had approved. But I am glad to be here regardless of how it happened.”

Lady Stark smiles at her, pausing to open a door. “We’re glad to have you here. This will be your room until the wedding. I hope it’s suitable.”

Raya enters the room, taking it in. It’s not much different from her room at the Dreadfort, but significantly warmer. She had felt the difference when they had entered the Keep compared to the Northern air outside. “It’s perfect, my lady. Significantly warmer than the Dreadfort.”

Lady Stark nods. “Winterfell was built on hot springs. It keeps the rooms warm no matter the season.”

Raya nods. “Strategic. I do think I will like it here once I get used to it.”

“I hope you do. Shall I show you around while your father’s men bring your belongings up?”

She nods. “That sounds wonderful, my lady.”

Raya takes Lady Starks arm, walking with her through the castle, trying to commit to memory where everything is located. This is her future home. She’ll have to know it inside and out soon. Better to learn early. They walk until it’s almost time for dinner, Lady Stark taking her back to her chambers to let her freshen up from her travels.

She takes a moment once Lady Stark has gone to breathe, taking a seat on the fur-covered bed. It’s been a month and a week since she found out about the marriage arrangement and it had seemed like nothing but a dream. But now it’s real. In a month's time she’ll be a Bolton no more, the wife of the heir of Winterfell. She had prepared herself for a loveless marriage no matter whom she married. There had been no love between her father and her mother, and he had been sure to instill it in her she would not find love either. Marriages to handsome princes, falling in love, living happily ever after were nothing but fantasies from children’s stories. Marriage is nothing but a duty to ensure Lords and Kings have heirs and their names live on for another generation. It would be her duty to ensure the Stark name continues on in Winterfell, her duty to bear Robb sons. No matter how much it scares her, she knows she must do her duties.

She changes into a clean dress, pinning her hair up in a more traditional Northern fashion. They had always reminded her she resembles her mother more than her father. Her dark hair, green eyes, her soft features. She’s grateful for that. Her mother had been beautiful. Raya isn’t sure she’d use such strong a word to describe herself. But she knows she’s at least pretty. She’d been well reminded of that by the residents of the Dreadfort. She’s too pretty for a place like that. Her looks are wasted on a place like the Dreadfort. Maybe her father should pledge her to a Southern lord.

She hated every one of them for speaking of her like that.

A knock on the door draws her from her thoughts and she puts the last pin in her hair before going to answer. She’s surprised to see Robb standing on the other side, looking less formal than he had earlier. His hair has come out of its smoothed down state some, auburn curls falling on his forehead. At least he has hair, and decent hair at that. He still looks every bit a lord as he smiles down at her. His smile is just as kind as his father’s.

“Lord Robb.” She greets him.

His smile gets bigger. “Please, no need for formalities, Lady Raya.”

She finds a smile tugging at her lips. “Then I must hold you to the same standards regarding formalities. Raya will do.”

“I have come to escort you to dinner. My father has insisted on celebrating your arrival.”

“Then I will gladly allow you to escort me for such a grand occasion.” She takes his offered arm, letting him lead her down the stairs.

“We don’t have many weddings in Winterfell. No doubt half the North will show up to celebrate.”

“It is a special occasion. It’s not every day someone marries the son of a great lord. At least that’s the truth here in the North.”

“Are you glad to be staying in the North?”

She holds back her grimace at his question. “Yes. The chain of gossip in the Dreadfort always thought my father would send me South to be married. They always said I was too pretty to be wasted on a Northern Lord.”

“And what did you think?”

“I always thought it would be a Karstark or an Umber. But then Domeric passed and things changed.”

“I am sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine losing a brother.”

“Domeric was always the more adventurous one. He had a big heart, but he wasn’t always guarded about how he showed it.”

“You think it has something to do with his death?” Robb slows his walk as they near the Great Hall.

“It would not surprise me if it turned out to be true.” She answers quietly. She has her suspicions about his death as did her father. But neither would ever voice those suspicions without evidence.

“All the same, I am sure he would have made a great lord.”

“He certainly would have changed things.”

“Like what?” Robb glances down at her.

“Well, they call it the Dreadfort for a reason. Hard to grow into the title ‘Lord of the Dreadfort’ when your heart is bigger than your stomach.”

Robb grins. “Are you going to miss your home?”

The sounds of a feast beginning are loud as they near the hall. Raya hasn’t been to a feast since she was a child. Her father was not one for raucous celebration and preferred the quiet. She always preferred the quiet too, but she would not have minded a celebration every so often. She had been holding her walls up for so long perhaps being here she could finally learn to lower them.

“Not as much as I thought I might.”


	2. Adjusting to Winterfell

The best part of Raya’s night is that Ramsay is not seated at the head table. He’s seated towards the back of the hall among her father’s men, near to where Lord Stark’s own bastard is sitting. She would have preferred having Jon Snow at the table if the choice had been hers, but it’s not up to her. At the Dreadford, Ramsay had sat at the table with her and her father during their meals. She had always loathed taking meals in their own hall. Ramsay couldn’t bring himself to stop talking, and her father was content saying no more than five words to her on a good day. So when she’s forced to partake in conversation at the table, she finds herself rather overwhelmed.

 

She’s seated between Robb and his younger sister Sansa, her father seated towards the head of the table near Lord Stark. Sansa is asking her twenty questions at a time, the other three Stark children avidly listening as she attempts to answer all the questions.

 

“Needlework is one of my most favorite things to do. Septa Mordane says I’m a natural at it. Are you any good at needlework?”

 

“I’ve never tried before.” She pretends not to see the shocked look on the fiery-haired Stark’s face. “My father never thought it was worth my time to learn, so it never gave me a chance.”

 

“What were you doing instead?” Arya inquires.

 

“Hunting, shooting crossbows, learning to use a sword.”

 

“You can fight with a sword?” She feels a smile tug on her lips at the youngest Stark girl’s excitement.

 

“Well, I’m not sure about fighting. But if I had to defend myself I’m sure I’d be alright.” She ignores the icy glare piercing the side of her head as she turns to the oldest Stark girl again. “You will have to teach me to do needlework. I am sure you are superb at it.”

 

Robb watches as his sister nearly beams with happiness at his betrothed’s words. She was doing well, keeping up with their conversation. His siblings are excited to have someone new amongst them, and it worried him that they might be overwhelming. He thought he might have to intervene, but she seems to do alright on her own.

 

More than once Robb had caught Lord Bolton eyeing his daughter during dinner. No doubt he wants to ensure she makes a good impression, which she has. His siblings are already enamoured and he can tell his mother approves of her. But something about the way he stares at her unnerves him. As nervous as he is for their wedding, he’ll be glad once the Lord of the Dreadfort has gone. Something about his emotionless composure makes Robb uneasy. He’s like a wild dog. You never know what his next move is going to be, or when he might turn and bite you.

 

Raya leaves the hall not long after his siblings are sent to bed. She had claimed weariness from their travels, and Robb can believe it. She had looked exhausted before dinner had even started. His father excuses her, Robb offering to walk her back to her room. She accepts, taking his arm again. Even he can feel Lord Bolton’s eyes following them out of the hall this time. Raya takes a deep breath as soon as they’re outside, her tense composure relaxing slightly. He says nothing, instead letting her make the conversation if she wishes to.

 

She’s silent until they approach her door, their steps slowing. “Thank you for walking me back, Robb. I’m afraid I would have gotten lost if I had tried alone.”

 

He nods. “It was my pleasure. I hope my siblings weren’t too exhausting tonight.”

 

He sees a ghost of a smile form on her lips. “They were wonderful. They’re all so different. Happy.”

 

“Annoying would be the word I would use.”

 

“They’re your siblings. They’re supposed to seem annoying to you. But they really are wonderful. I think I will enjoy your family greatly.”

 

Robb smiles at her. “Good. I’m glad of that. I’ll leave you to get some rest. No doubt Mother will want to start planning the wedding tomorrow.”

 

She nods. “I would expect so. Goodnight, Robb. Thank you for being so kind.”

 

He smiles at her, kissing her hand again. “Goodnight, Raya.”

 

He sees her cheeks flush pink for a moment before she quickly turns, entering her room. He waits until the door latches before turning on his heel to go back to the hall. Raya Bolton is a mystery to him still, but at least she is not like her father. For that he is glad.

 

* * *

 

Raya is taking the pins out of her hair when her father arrives. She knows his knock anywhere, calling for him to enter as she removes the last pin from her hair. He closes the door behind him, making her stomach twist. “Come to wish me goodnight, Father?”

 

He’s silent for a moment and she turns to face him. “You’ve not unpacked?”

 

She shrugs. “What’s the point. They will move everything to my husband’s room in a month as it is.”

 

She immediately regrets her choice of words as soon as they leave her lips. The worst thing about her father is he never shows his rage. She’d only ever seen it once, but every other time he’d been stone faced and cold as the Northern air. Her head snaps to the side as his hand connects with her face. She catches herself on the vanity, blood pooling in her mouth. She’s given no time to recover before she’s yanked back up, her arm twisted painfully behind her back. She bites back a cry of pain, knowing it will only give him what he wants. She can feel his breath on her ear as he looms behind her, his grip on her wrist like a steel vice.

 

“Don’t you pull that attitude with me. If you mess this up, I will drag you back to the Dreadfort behind my horse and lock you in the darkest cell I can find where you will never see the light of day again. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

He holds her there for a moment before pushing her away from him. Her knees hit the stone floor under her painfully and she bites her lip until it bleeds to keep silent. She stays where she is until he leaves, closing the door quietly behind him. He makes his way back down to his own rooms, missing the figure standing back in the shadows on the staircase.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t like him.” Jon says as he prepares himself to spar his half-brother again.

 

“He’s the Lord of a place called the Dreadfort whose sigil is a flayed man on a cross. You’re not supposed to like him.” Theon says, leaning on his sword.

 

“That’s not what I mean.” He steps closer to Robb and Theon. “I heard something last night.”

 

Both boys step closer, lowering their voices. “What do you mean?” Robb asks curiously.

 

“I was coming down from telling Arya goodnight. I was almost to her door when I heard the commotion. I couldn’t hear well enough to be sure, but I think he hit her.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. He wouldn’t dare lay a hand on the future Lady of Winterfell.” Robb says.

 

“You saw how she acted this morning. She hid her face every chance she could.”

 

Jon can see Robb thinking about it. Raya had been closed off this morning. More quiet than she had been the night before. She had flinched when Lady Stark had taken her hand to lead her off after they had finished eating. No one else had seemed to notice, but Jon had.

 

Robb’s brow furrows in anger, his jaw clenching. “I’ll cut off his hands for it.”

 

Robb turns to walk away, but Theon stops him. “Wait. Think about this. We have no proof. Getting involved could make things so much worse for her.”

 

“Theon’s right.” Jon says. He hates to admit it, but Lord Stark’s ward is using his head for once. “In a month you’ll be married. She’ll be in your care, and your father’s. He won’t be able to touch her again.”

 

Robb’s tense shoulders relax as the anger diffuses. Acting rashly won’t help this situation. Perhaps Jon was wrong, and he had gone making false accusations. That kind of action could have lead to Lord Bolton breaking off the betrothal and regardless of if Jon was right or not, it could have made the situation for Raya worse. Theon was right. They had no proof other than what they could assume about Raya’s behavior. Perhaps something else had happened. Perhaps she had finally come to realize what her arrival here had meant, and she was nervous for what would transpire in a month’s time. Robb doesn’t like Lord Bolton, and he’s not alone in that opinion. Many of the lords in the North share a dislike for House Bolton. But he will marry Raya Bolton even if it is a loveless marriage for her sake to keep her away from her father.

 

Raya Bolton is as hard to read as her father. She has shown more emotion than him in the day she’d been here, but he can tell she’s built a fortified reserve around herself. He doesn’t blame her, being forced into a marriage with a man she’s known for less than a day. He likes to think they could have a happy marriage at least. She had been so impressed by his siblings and had seemed relaxed around him. Or at least more so than she did around her father. Perhaps they could find at least happiness together.

 

* * *

 

Robb barely sees his betrothed in the next two weeks. His mother had been keeping her busy arranging the wedding and no doubt teaching her to care for the affairs of the house. They had learned Raya had no Septa growing up as the Dreadfort’s last Septa had died not long after she was born. Her mother had taught her until her death, and then it had fallen to her father and the Captain of the Guard. She was smart though, and a quick learner according to Sansa. She had taken to needlework quickly and was even better than Arya already. Arya took no offense to that though, overjoyed to have someone to spar with.

 

Ramsay Bolton had taken to attending training with the other boys. Robb had known immediately both Raya and Lord Bolton disliked the bastard. Robb was quick to figure out why. Like Theon, Ramsay had an incessant need to talk, especially about women. They had both shared their secrets about bed warmers and brothels. The only time Ramsay didn’t talk was when he was sparring. It had surprised Robb, who was confident in his abilities with a sword to find the strength the bastard had behind his blows. Robb has to work to keep up with him and avoid getting bruises from the hard blows.

 

The thing that Robb dislikes most about Ramsay is his eyes. He realizes all three of the Bolton’s share the same deep-set eyes, but where Raya and her father have cold eyes, Ramsay’s are alight with a deep madness. It shines through the most when he’s sparring, especially so when he’s winning. Ramsay unnerves Robb as much as Lord Bolton does. He will be glad when the next two weeks are up and the Boltons leave Winterfell.

 

* * *

 

Raya finally gets a break at the start of her third week in Winterfell. Lady Stark had kept her busy planning the wedding and making sure everything is perfect. She had even enlisted Sansa’s help with her wedding gown. The girl was fantastic with needlework and she at least wanted her dress to be special. She hadn’t seen Robb in those two weeks outside of dinner and when she was asked to break her fast with the Stark family. He has been nothing but kind to her when he’s seen her, and she can at least hope for a peaceful marriage. Perhaps she could even grow to find happiness with him. But love, she knows, is out of the question.

 

Arya is the one who steals her away during her break from the wedding planning. The younger girl had been dying to have time to train with Raya. Unfortunately, their only option that day was archery. Outside of a crossbow, Raya’s skills are limited. She’d tried to learn before, but she could never remember every precise detail of the stance needed to be successful.

 

“You can’t be any worse than Bran.” Arya says as they grab their bows. “He can barely get his arm back far enough.”

 

“Well, he is young and still learning. Archery takes a certain grace few people have.” She knocks an arrow, drawing it back before letting it go. She hits the edge of the target, slightly to the left. “I am not one of those people.”

 

Arya lets an arrow loose, hitting the target dead center. “You just need to practice, that’s all.”

 

Raya smiles. “Then we must do this a lot together, then.”

 

They shoot a few arrows together, Raya always drifting left of the target.

 

“You’re standing wrong.” Raya turns when she hears Robb’s voice. He’s leaning against a post, a hint of a smile on his face. He steps forward, coming over to her. “Let me help you.” He steps up behind her and her stomach immediately tightens into a knot. “Your feet are too close to start. Move your front foot forward slightly.” She does as he says, his hands falling to her waist to adjust her hips. “Draw the arrow.” She pulls the string back, Robb’s hands leave her waist, turning her elbow slightly, making sure her grip is right, the other hand lowering her back arm slightly.

 

She can feel his breath on the back of her neck. She doesn’t feel the twisting in her stomach, the fear she’d always felt whenever a man stands close behind her. There’s a different kind of fluttering in her stomach with Robb behind her. His hands fall back to her waist as he finishes adjusting her and he leans in closer to her ear.

 

“Now let go.”

 

The arrow is flying before she realizes she’s let go. It’s just off the center of the target, but at least she hit the black spot designating the bulls-eye. She turns slightly to face Robb, smiling up at him as Arya cheers.

 

“You are a fast learner.” He says, smiling down at her.

 

“Well, I have a good teacher.”

 

He smirks down at her. “Then as your teacher, my next order is for you to do it again.”

 

She smiles, grabbing another arrow, repeating the stance he’d corrected for her. He stays close behind her, correcting minor flaws as she goes. His touch is gentle as it had been the first day they’d met. It’s strange to her, but she can’t deny that it sends shivers running through her. It’s a nice change to what she’s used to. Perhaps being married to him would not be as bad as she imagined.

 


	3. A Wedding

There’s one day before the wedding and the entire castle is alight with energy. Lady Stark is busy finishing preparations, and Raya was sent off to relax. She finds she can’t relax though, her stomach a knot of nervous energy and instead of relaxing, she takes to wandering the castle grounds. Her father had been ignoring her since the incident after they arrived. She’d be lying if she said she’s not grateful for it. Planning a wedding is stressful enough and it would have been unbearable if her father had been there hovering over her too. 

 

She stumbles across Lord Stark in her wanderings, looking over the training yard where Robb, Jon and Theon are trying to teach Bran how to wield a sword. She approaches him slowly and he looks up as she nears. He smiles softly at her, and she curtsies once she’s close enough.

 

“Lord Stark.” 

 

“Lady Raya. Are you nervous for tomorrow?” 

 

She nods. “Yes. Very.” 

 

He smiles, looking back over the training grounds. “It will be alright. Robb is an honorable man. He will care for you.” 

 

She nods, watching him as he laughs at Bran. “May I ask, if it is not too forward of me, why you chose me to marry your son?” 

 

Lord Stark sighs for a moment before turning to face her. “I had always known I wanted Robb to marry out of love. I did not want him to be arranged into a marriage like I was with Cat. I wanted him to be free to choose. But I was surprised when I received the proposal from your father. I did not even know Lord Bolton had a daughter. I knew about your brother, but I did not know of your existence until the letter arrived. I’ve heard that women don’t last long in House Bolton. Your father married twice, both women died of illness. Then your brother passed. But you’ve survived longer than any of them. I knew there had to be something special about you. A strength that has allowed you to thrive where others have not. Robb needs a strong woman especially when the time comes for him to take my place as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.” He looks back down at Robb. “I don’t completely trust your father. It’s no secret the other lords in the North are distrustful of him. I know life there could not have been easy for you. If I had known of your existence earlier, I would have done what I could have to help you escape the Dreadfort.” 

 

Raya ponders his words for a while. She had been right about Lord Stark wanting strength in his son’s wife. Being the only lady of the Dreadfort, she certainly had that. But his words also made her nervous. Had she not hid the bruise on her face well enough? How much did he know about what had happened to her during her time at the Dreadfort? Were her walls not as strong as she thought them to be and she had given away everything she had tried to hide for so long? 

 

“Thank you, Lord Stark. I am honored to be the one chosen to marry Robb. He is kind, just like his father.”

 

Lord Stark smiles at Raya. “You will have a happy marriage. I hope someday you can come to find love like I did.”

 

Raya smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Happiness is all I could hope for from this arrangement.” 

 

* * *

 

Raya is brushing her hair out after her bath when Ramsay arrives. She doesn’t bother getting up when he comes in, continuing to work the knots out of her hair. Her wedding dress is hanging in the wardrobe, ready for tomorrow. She’ll break her fast with her family one last time and by evening she’ll be a married woman. She’s not as on guard as she should be.

 

“What do you want, Ramsay?”

 

He stops behind her, taking the brush from her hand. “You know what to expect from your wedding night?” 

 

She nods as he starts to brush her hair for her. She has a sick feeling in her stomach. “Yes. Father was very explicit in his instructions.” 

 

“He’s the young wolf, Raya. He will hurt you. He won’t be kind like the men you fantasize about.” 

 

“I don’t fantasize about men. I know what to expect. I know better than to think he’ll care for me.” 

 

Ramsay tosses the brush back on her vanity, making her jump. His hand tangles in her hair, yanking her head back as he leans down. His breath his hot on her neck as he rests his chin on her shoulder. “If only father could have waited. He would have legitimized me as his son and heir and then I would have killed him. You would have never come here, and it would be me you’d be walking to tomorrow.” 

 

His lips brush her ear and she squirms in his grip, driving her elbow back into his stomach. He releases her and she jumps up, backing away from him. “Get out you sick bastard!” 

 

Rage flashes across his face and he raises his hand, seconds from hitting her when her door opens. “Ramsay!” She’d never been relieved to hear her father’s voice before. Perhaps there is a first time for everything. “Out. Now.” 

 

She had flinched from his hand, hoping he’d hit anywhere but her face. Ramsay glares at her as he lowers his hand, stomping out of the room. Her father glances at her for a moment before turning on his heel, leaving the room. Raya sinks to the floor, taking in deep breaths of air. She’s never been more ready for this wedding than she is now.

 

* * *

 

She’s up early the next morning, going to the hall to break her fast with her father and Ramsay. Ramsay is sporting a dark bruise on his cheek, do doubt from their father the previous night. He doesn’t even look at her as they eat in their typical silence. Raya can hardly stomach any food, nervous about the ceremony and what will come after. The ceremony itself won’t take place until later that evening, giving them ample amount of time to prepare. 

 

Raya leaves her father and Ramsay at the table when it’s time to start preparing, Lady Stark along with Sansa and Arya and a few handmaids there to help her prepare. Her hair is done first in a typical Northern style, a few stray hairs left to frame her face while the rest is pulled up. Sansa talks neverending of getting married to a prince and dressing in beautiful dresses and living happily ever after. It does nothing to help Raya’s nerves. But she keeps her head high, refusing to let herself break down. 

 

She’s helped into her dress, white fabric embroidered with green by Sansa herself. It is beautiful, fitting her like a glove. It’s high necked and long sleeved to protect against the cool Northern air. A maid is almost finished lacing her into the dress when a knock sounds on the door. Lady Stark answers. It’s her father. 

 

“Lady Stark. I hope I am not interrupting.” 

 

“Not at all. We were almost finished.” She opens the door wider, letting him inside. 

 

“I was hoping to have a moment alone with my daughter, if that is alright.” 

 

Lady Stark nods. “Of course. Come, girls.” 

 

Sansa, Arya and the handmaids take their leave with Lady Stark, leaving Raya alone with her father. She waits until she hears the door close before turning to face him. He’s holding her maiden cloak with her house sigil on it in his arms. She hates that she has to wear it through the ceremony. Standing there with a red flayed man on her back. 

 

“You look just like your mother.” He sets the cloak on the bed before stepping up to her. “I suppose that’s not a bad thing. If you had come out looking like me we might never have convinced the Stark boy to agree to the marriage.” Had her father just made a joke? He puts his hands on her shoulders turning her away from him. He begins to undo the laces on the dress and she feels her stomach sink to her feet. “After the ceremony there is the feast and after the feast there will be the bedding.” He begins to tighten the laces, making her gasp. “You will open your legs to the young wolf and you will keep them open until he is finished.” He tightens another lace, nearly stealing the breath from her lungs. “And every night he comes to your bed you will open your legs for him no matter how many times or how much it hurts you.” Her breaths are coming in shallow gasps now from the restrictive bodice. “And you will continue to do so until there is a wolf pup in your belly.” He finishes tying the laces, turning her back around to face him. He ignores the pained look on her face, grabbing the maiden’s cloak. “House words?” 

 

“Our blades are sharp.” She recites. 

 

“And they are.” He clasps the cloak around her shoulders. “After tonight you will be a Stark by name. But you will always be a Bolton by blood. You will do wise not to forget that.” She nods, wanting to save her breath for more important matters. “Come. It is almost time for the ceremony.”

 

* * *

 

 

It seems all of Winterfell is gathered in the Godswood for the ceremony. The aisle is lit by torches, her father carrying one of his own as he escorts her to where Robb and his father are waiting at the foot of the Heart Tree. She holds her head high, trying to hide her fear as they stop a few feet away from Lord Stark. There’s silence in the Godswood and it’s almost eerie. 

 

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” Lord Stark asks. 

 

"Raya, of the House Bolton, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?" Her father answers. 

 

Robb steps forward from his place behind his father. "Robb, of House Stark, heir to Winterfell. Who gives her?"

 

"Roose, of the House Bolton, her father." 

 

"Lady Raya, will you take this man?" Lord Stark asks her. 

 

She swallows the lump in her throat as she nods. “I take this man.” 

 

Her father steps away from her, moving to the side as Robb takes his place and they join hands, kneeling before the Heart Tree to say a silent prayer. Raya’s not sure how long it is, seconds or minutes before they’re standing again, Robb removing her maiden’s cloak, passing it back to her father before taking the bride’s cloak from his own house, placing it on her shoulders. She breathes out a small sigh of relief. The Stark cloak is softer and thicker than her maiden’s cloak had been. It’s a heavier weight, but it’s a welcome feeling. 

 

She’s scooped off the ground and into Robb’s arms, signalling the end of the ceremony. He carries her up the aisle her father had escorted her down just a few moments before, taking her out of the Godswood and to the Great Hall to start the feast. She wraps her arms around his neck, breathing a small sigh of relief again. 

 

“Thank the gods for Northern ceremonies.” She says as Robb carries her to into the Hall, the rest of Winterfell following. 

 

“Short and to the point. Leaves more time for celebrating.” Robb says, carrying her to the head table, finally setting her on her feet. He doesn’t even seem to be winded from carrying her that far, and it makes her more nervous for what would come after the feast. 

 

She takes the seat next to her husband, the rest of their families joining them, including Jon who had been standing with his family during the ceremony at Robb’s request. Ramsay had also been included, standing on the opposite side during the ceremony and now joined them at the head table. She’s not worried anymore, a sort of weight sliding off her shoulders. She’s a married woman now. They wouldn’t dare touch her. 

 

Food is quickly brought out along with wine as everyone settles in. Raya can’t bring herself to eat much, the nerves of the bedding tied in with her too tight dress making her feel rather ill. She sticks with wine, trying to lessen her nerves with liquid courage. She feels a hand on hers, and she turns to look up at Robb. 

 

“You look beautiful.” He says, smiling softly down at her. 

 

“Thank you.” She squeezes his hand gently. 

 

He keeps his hand in hers as he turns to speak with Theon, people beginning to line up to offer their congratulations. She keeps her responses simple, smiles and nods and thank you’s. She’s beginning to feel the strain of the dress, her head starting to feel light on her shoulders. She squeezes Robb’s hand harder during a pause in the line of those wishing to congratulate them. 

 

“I need some air.” 

 

She doesn’t wait for his response, rising from her seat and slipping out a side door. The cool air shocks her back into her head as she breathes it in. It’s a clear, starry night the air crisp and cool. She reaches back, loosening the ties on her dress, freeing her constricted abdomen. She nearly passes out as her lungs fill completely with air, steadying herself on a pillar. 

 

“Are you alright, Raya?” 

 

She turns on her heel, Robb standing behind her. “Yes. I was getting light headed in there.” 

 

He nods, stepping closer to her. “It is rather warm in there.” He takes her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles for a moment. He watches her face for a moment before smiling, pulling her away from the great hall. “Let’s go.” 

 

She frowns. “Where?” 

 

“If we leave now, we can escape the bedding ceremony. Today has been strenuous enough. I don’t particularly fancy being subjected to that kind of embarrassment.” 

 

She nearly cries in relief. She had been dreading the bedding ceremony, knowing Ramsay would be the first to jump into practicing that tradition. After his words the previous night, she had been hoping it could be avoided. And now her kind husband was offering an out. 

 

“Oh thank the gods. I’ve been dreading that all evening.” 

 

She lets him lead her to the Keep, going up a different way from what she was used to. She’d be staying in his room...well their room now. He opens the door for her, letting her walk in first. It’s laid out almost exactly like her previous room was, though slightly bigger. There’s candles lit over the hearth and a fire burning in the fireplace already. There’s wine sitting on his table and she goes over to help herself to some more. Nerves have taken hold again now that they’re alone. She hears the lock on his door click into place, sealing her fate. 

 

She listens as he approaches her, her hands undoing the many pins in her hair. She can feel his warmth as he stops behind her, his own hands working her dress open. She drinks the last sip of wine in the cup before he finishes undoing the laces, slowly pushing the dress off her shoulders. She lets it fall, pooling around her feet as she turns to face him in nothing more than a thin shift. She curses her hands for shaking as she reaches up, working the clasp of his cloak open along with the ties of his shirt. He pulls it off over his head once it’s loose enough, leaving himself  bare chested. He’s just as strong and lean as she had pictured. 

 

She finds herself suddenly nervous and she pulls him in for a kiss as he fingers the straps of her shift. It’s Raya’s first kiss and also her first kiss with Robb. She’s not sure what to do, her hands holding his face. She feels his lips move against hers, just as soft as they’d been the first day they’d met. His hands pull her shift off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground before his hands settle on her bare skin. His hands are calloused from training but his touch is soft, his thumbs rubbing circles into the skin above her hips. 

 

She pulls her lips away from his for a moment, unsure of what to do next. She lets him take over as he pulls her body against his, wrapping his arms around her as he presses his lips to hers again. The first kiss had been gentle, timid. This kiss is hungry and intense, stealing her breath away. Her hands run across his shoulders, moving up into his hair. He’d had it smoothed down again for the ceremony, but she quickly ruins that. His hair is just as soft as his skin, his curls wrapping around her fingers. 

 

He chuckles, pulling away, kissing his way down her jaw. 

 

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I first met you.” She breathes, making him laugh again. “I-I’ve never...done this before.” 

 

He shushes her, biting at her earlobe. “It’s alright. I’ve spent enough time listening to Theon brag I think I have an idea.” He cups her face gently. “I will be as gentle as possible.” She nods in understanding. 

 

His lips find her neck, sucking and biting at her skin as he slowly backs her towards his bed. A small moan leaves her lips as he bites down on her pulse point. Her entire body is tingling and it feels alive as he touches her. The heat that had gathered in her stomach whenever he’d touched her is back, but twice as hot now. Her legs hit his bed and he lets her go, letting her drop onto the sheets. The furs have been pulled back, neatly folded at the end of the bed to keep from getting dirtied no doubt. 

 

He reaches down, undoing his pants as he kicks off his boots. She leans up on her elbows watching him as he finishes undressing himself. He sees her eyes widen, a flush spreading across her face as he drops his pants to the floor, stepping out of them. He steps to the bed, kneeling in front of Raya, sliding her so her head is on the pillows. He leans down, kissing his way down her stomach. Theon had spent the last week doing nothing but telling him how to please a woman in bed. He had listened to some of his advice, getting an idea of how to lessen the pain for his wife during their first coupling. 

 

She leans up slightly as he parts her legs, leaning his head down between them. “Robb...what are you - ooh…” He places his mouth on her, exploring her folds with his tongue. It feels strange but it’s also beginning to feel good. 

 

He finds one spot that makes her gasp whenever he hits it, her hands gripping the bed sheets as he sucks at that one spot. He slowly presses a finger into her, feeling her maidenhead and how tight she is. It’s a strange feeling for her, having his finger inside her. But he keeps hitting that spot that’s making her tingle, her stomach tightening like a coiling rope. She feels like she’s getting closer to something but she’s not quite sure what it is. 

 

“Robb…” She moans his name as she feels herself chasing after something. 

 

She nearly whines when he pulls away from her. He sits up on his knees over her, slowly stroking himself. She keeps her legs open like her father had told her to, watching Robb’s face. His eyes are dark and hungry as he stares at her so open beneath him. She gulps as he stares at her like a dog stares at a piece of meat. That’s all they were. He’s a wolf, and she’s nothing more than a piece of meat. 

 

She shivers as his hands run along the curve of her waist, moving up past her breasts as he settles himself over her, leaning on his elbows. He cups her face, his length rubbing against her slit. She gasps at the sensation, her hands gripping his arms. He had felt how wet she is, but he knows it’s still going to hurt her. He reaches down, lining himself up with her before slowly pressing in. 

 

He watches her face contort as he slowly enters her, stretching her. She’s trying to hide the pain but he can see it, her hands clutching at his back. He feels her maidenhead and he pauses, letting her take a breath before he breaks through with a thrust. She clenches her eyes closed, a whimper leaving her lips. Her nails are digging into his back, her knees gripping around his hips. He watches tears escape out of her eyes, and he gently brushes them away with his thumbs. He leans down, capturing her lips with his in an attempt to distract her from the pain as he slowly starts to move. 

 

Her father had been right in telling her that it hurts. There’s no pleasure like there had been when he’d had his head between her legs anymore. His thrusts are slow and gentle, but all she can feel is pain. She clutches at him, digging her nails into his back as he takes her. He pauses for a moment, sitting up to wrap her legs around his waist. She groans quietly as this pushes him deeper inside of her, the pain starting to fade as he continues his thrusts. 

 

He groans into her ear as he slowly picks up speed. The pain is almost gone now, this new angle bringing about the same feeling she’d had earlier. His lips are at her neck, his teeth biting at her skin, his thrusts getting even faster now. She clings to him, moaning his name as that coil tightens again in her stomach. 

 

“Robb…” 

 

He groans into her ear, licking the shell of it as his hands grip the sheets by her head. “Let go.” 

 

She stops holding onto the feeling, letting herself fall over the edge with a cry. His own pace stutters as she clamps down around him tight, her walls pulling at him, trying to milk him of his seed. He bites down on her shoulder as he feels a shiver run through his body straight to his cock. He releases inside her, releasing her shoulder with a groan. They stay there connected for a moment, both trembling and breathing heavy. The room feels stuffy now, their bodies slick with sweat. 

 

Robb gently pulls out of his wife, flopping on his back beside her. They’re silent as they catch their breath, Robb recovering faster than Raya. He turns on his side, his fingers running down her arm. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

 

She shakes her head. “It hurt at first, but whatever that was afterwards was wonderful.” 

 

He smiles, kissing her head. “Good.” He rolls back onto his back, wanting to reach out and hold her but he doesn’t want to push her to do something she’s uncomfortable with. He figures she’s been forced to do that enough tonight. He’s not going to force her into something else she doesn’t want. 

  
  
  



	4. The Day After

Robb is strangely content when he wakes the next morning. It takes him a moment, but he remembers the events from the day before. His head is aching from the wine he’d drank at his wedding and his muscles are aching from their consummation. He rolls on his side, finding Raya asleep still, her back to him. He reaches out, running his fingers along the smooth skin of her shoulder, trailing them down her arm, taking the furs with them. He pauses as he uncovers a mass of lines on her back. They’re dark and thick, criss-crossing in an x-shaped pattern. He runs his fingers across the rough skin. They almost look like whipping scars.

 

Raya is awake as soon as she feels fingers on her back. She feels panic flood through her and she nearly falls as she jumps out of bed. There’s a deep ache between her thighs but she shoves that pain aside as she hastily pulls on a shift. “You weren’t supposed to see that.” She says, searching through the wardrobe for one of her dresses.

 

“I’m your husband, Raya. What did you expect?” She can hear him moving around the bed.

 

“I expected you not to pay attention.” She hastily laces up her dress to avoid any more confrontation.

 

“Raya, I want to know what happened.” He comes up behind her, a frown marring his face.

 

“It doesn’t matter.” She tries to push past him.

 

“It matters to me.” He grabs her arms to keep her in front of him but he suddenly finds her fighting against him.

 

“Let me go!” She shrieks, tearing herself from his grip. She stumbles back a few feet, her eyes wide with fear, her breaths coming in short gasps. They stare at each other, Robb in shock, Raya feeling petrified with terror and guilt. Despite this, she’s the first to recover. “I’ll let your family know you will be down shortly to break your fast.”

 

She turns on her heel, nearly flying out of the room. She passes a few maids on their way up, no doubt to collect the bed sheet for proof for her father she did her duties. She’s aching immensely between her legs but she forces the pain down, as well as the panic. She hadn’t meant to be so careless, to let her new husband see them. At least not yet.

 

She slows her walk from the Keep to the Great Hall, breathing slowly to calm her racing heart. She can’t let her goodfamily know something is wrong now, not even a day into their marriage. The guards open the Hall doors for her, her goodfamily along with Jon and Theon all turn to look at her as she enters. She holds her head high, walking towards the table.

 

“I didn’t expect to see you this morning. Much less alone.” Theon says.

 

“Robb will be down shortly. He had a matter he had to attend to before he could join us.”

 

Thankfully, no one raises any fuss about it, Lady Stark greeting her as she takes a seat at the table. Robb follows not five minutes later, Theon smirking at him as he comes in, taking his seat next to his wife. Raya doesn’t even look at him as he enters, only acknowledging his presence to pass him food.

 

Catelyn knows there’s something amiss with the newlywed couple as soon as they walk in the door. Raya comes in first, obviously in pain but she hides it well. Only one who has felt that kind of pain would know there’s anything strange about the way she’s walking. That’s to be expected. But it’s the fact she’s alone that bothers Catelyn. Robb had accompanied her to every meal she’d eaten with them before their marriage. And now on the first day of their married lives she comes in alone. Not only that, but it’s silent between them. She remembers the first day after her wedding to Ned. It had not been the most comfortable, but there had not been such a wedge between them. She can only wonder what happened and what went so wrong to drive them apart so quickly.

 

* * *

 

Raya goes to see her father once she’s done breaking her fast. He’ll be leaving soon wanting to get back to the Dreadfort after so long away. She knocks on his door, opening it when she hears him call for her to enter. He’s packing the last of his things, dressed for the road. She doesn’t quite know what to say to him. There had been times growing up when she would have given anything to be away from the Dreadfort. But now she’d never see it again, and she almost feels melancholy.

 

“You did your duties last night like I told you.” He says, fastening his saddlebag. “You will continue to do them and send a raven as soon as you are certain you are with child.”

 

She nods. “Yes, Father.”

 

He grips her chin in his hand, forcing her face upwards. “Don’t look so miserable. It is not becoming of you. You’re the future Lady of Winterfell. Start looking like it.” He releases her face, stepping around her to the door. “I’ll send word to you if anything of importance happens. I expect you will do the same.”

 

She nods again. “Yes, Father.”

 

He nods, stepping out the door without a goodbye. She passes her father’s men entering the guest quarters to fetch her father’s things. She doesn’t want to see them ride off, instead deciding to take a walk around the castle, needing to clear her head. It had been an eventful morning, and the last thing she wants to do is face her father or her husband. But instead she finds worse.

 

She’s passing a dark cut off corner when a hand reaches out, pulling her in. She’s shoved up against the wall, her vision going fuzzy from the force of the shove for a moment. But she’s not dazed enough to not recognize Ramsay’s face in her line of sight. His hand covers her mouth before she can scream, his body pressing up against hers so she can’t fight.

 

“Not going to come see me off, dear sister? How insulting!” She struggles against him, but it’s no use, tears clouding her vision now. Ramsay laughs at her. “You’ve got no fight left in you. Did the young wolf fuck it all out of you?” She feels his free hand roaming up her side. “It’s a shame. Such a waste. Oh well. The next time we see each other, I’ll be the legitimized heir of the Dreadfort and you’ll be fat with the young wolf’s pups no doubt. I will miss you, dear sister.” He presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, making her skin crawl. “Until next time.”

 

He releases her, strolling out of the secluded area like nothing had happened. Raya can’t hold herself up anymore, sinking to the ground. She curls in on herself, silent tears falling down her cheeks. She hasn’t let herself cry in a long time, telling herself she’s stronger than that. That crying fixes nothing. She had believed it for a long time. But now she can’t hold it in any longer. She thought she would be happy once she was finally free of her father. But they hadn’t even left the castle yet, and she was already breaking down. The strength her father had forced on her had all been a lie. Perhaps Lord Stark had made a mistake in thinking she was strong enough to marry Robb.

 

* * *

 

It’s near mid-day when Raya finally moves. Her goodfamily will be eating their midday meal soon and she knows she has to join them. She gets up, her whole body aching now instead of just the place between her thighs. She looks around where she is, on the opposite side of the guard’s quarters from the Keep or the hall. The fastest way around is to cut through the training grounds. Robb and the others will have finished by now, she thinks. But she’s wrong.

 

“I think you were right, Jon.” She hears Robb’s voice, and she quickly flattens herself against the side of the building. They’re still sparring, Robb and Jon at least.

 

“About what?” Jon asks.

 

“Raya’s father hitting her. This morning I saw scars on her back. They looked like whipping scars.” It’s silent between them for a moment. “I tried to ask her about them but she got defensive. I grabbed her to keep her from leaving but she got scared. Terrified. All I wanted to do was help her…” Raya doesn’t want to hear anymore. She’ll take the long way to the hall.

 

She’s nearly cleared the training grounds when she runs into Lady Stark coming out of the guest quarters. She hastily wipes her eyes with her sleeves, trying to make it seem like she’s alright, but Lady Stark knows better.

 

“Lady Raya, are you alright?”

 

Raya sniffles. “Yes, yes. I’m alright.”

 

Lady Stark frowns, gently cupping her face. “You don’t look alright. Has something happened?”

 

Raya wants to break down again, but she holds her composure. “No, my lady. I just...simply realized I am now alone. The lone flayed man in the wolf’s den.”

 

Lady Stark smiles at her. “Better than being the lone fish in the wolf’s den.” Raya can’t help but smile. “Come. It is almost time for us to eat again.”

 

* * *

 

Raya avoids Robb for the entire day, aside from their mealtimes. Even then she hardly looks at him. She knows Lady Stark is suspicious, but thankfully Rickon keeps her attention, and Sansa and Arya keep Raya’s. Robb leaves with his father after their dinner to take care of some last-minute business, letting Raya have some time alone in their room. The fire is alight again, the candles on the mantle burning just as they had the night before. She’s not sure what to do now that she’s by herself.

 

There’s a knock at the door. It’s a maid, bringing hot water for a bath. She’s grateful for that, letting the maids fill up the bath before she climbs in, letting the warm water relax her muscles. She closes her eyes, letting her head fall back as she lets the steam clear her head. She almost doesn’t hear the door opening, her husband coming in. She keeps her eyes closed, listening to him move about the room. She hears him climb into the tub with her and she finally opens her eyes, sitting up straight.

 

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks her, his voice quiet.

 

She nods. “I wasn’t aware I needed a hot bath until I got in.”

 

He smiles, lathering a cloth with soap before cleaning himself. “I want to apologize for how I acted this morning. I did not mean to frighten you.”

 

Raya shakes her head. “I should not have acted so childish. You were only doing your duty as my husband.”

 

“I am sorry if I made you feel as if I was pushing you to discuss something you are not ready to. We hardly know each other and we’ve only just been married. I want you to be comfortable with me.”

 

She nods, keeping her gaze down. “You’re a kind man, Robb, and an honorable husband. You deserve better than me.”

 

Robb frowns. “You are a strong woman, Raya. You are brave and kind. I could ask no more from my wife than what you already have.”

 

She’s silent for a moment. “Thank you. Do you...do you wish for me to pleasure you again tonight?”

 

Robb shakes his head. “No. You are sore, no doubt. I would rather have our next coupling be pleasurable for both of us.”

 

She nods, letting herself relax. Perhaps her father had been wrong about him. She had wanted to think Robb was a more noble man than her father made him out to be. Maybe they could find happiness after all.

 

Raya watches as Robb climbs out of the bath. He dries himself with a cloth before putting on his night clothes. She waits until he has his back turned before she follows, drying herself before slipping on her night dress quickly. It’s stuffy in the room, damp from the steam of the bath water so Robb cracks the window open to let in some cool air. He calls for a maid to empty the bath, watching as his wife sits at her vanity, combing through her hair. He sits on the edge of the bed, the maids dutifully emptying the bath before taking their leave. He locks the door behind them, not missing the way his wife’s shoulders tense at the sound.

 

He climbs into the bed, laying under the furs. He stares at the flickering light of the fire on the ceiling. It had been a long day. Not at all what he had pictured the day after his wedding to be like. He had always pictured himself waking up with his wife in his arms, curled together for warmth. Spending the day with her, happy and in love. Instead, he had terrified his wife by trying to push his help upon her and spent the day with his father. He had tried to force the sight of her scarred back out of his mind but he couldn’t. They were old scars, starting to fade but the thicker ones were still rough and dark. The need to know what happened had been eating away at him all day. He had created so many scenarios in his head, each one more awful than the last.

 

He’s pulled from his thoughts as Raya joins him in bed, keeping her distance from him as she curls up under the furs. She has her back to him again, but it’s covered by her night dress this time. He’s scared to touch her, scared he’ll frighten her again, so he instead turns his back to her letting his eyes drift closed.

 


	5. Two Months Later

Robb wakes up early, his skin prickling from the cold air in the room. There's a solid warmth against his back and he can feel Raya's warm breath fanning against his neck. He stays still for a moment, relishing in having her close, but the cold settles in as he wakes fully. He turns his head, finding he left the window open last night. The fireplace is cold and the candles have long since gone out. He carefully removes himself from the bed, Raya rolling over into the warm spot where his body had been. He goes to the window, closing it and latching it. He stands over the bed for a moment, watching Raya sleeping there before he joins her again, pulling her back to his chest. He pulls the furs over them, Raya's skin cool to the touch as he wraps himself around her to keep her warm. He holds her for a few moments before he feels his eyes drift closed once again.

He's not sure how long he'd slept when he wakes a second time. The room is brighter now than it had been when he'd closed the window. He's still wrapped around Raya, their bodies warmer now than they had been, but without a fire the air in the room is still chilled. He lays there, wondering whether he should move before she wakes but then he realizes she already is.

"It's cold." She says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"That is my mistake." He runs his hand along her arm. "I left the window open."

She hums, her body relaxed in his arms. "You're warm."

He smiles, burying his face in her hair. She smells of honey and her hair is soft against his face. Her skin is soft beneath his fingers as he traces her bare arm, his fingers moving towards her hand. He stays silent, watching her reaction as he closes his hand over hers. She stills for a moment before pulling his hand to her chest, holding it close. She's relaxed in his hold, her breathing steady as she lays in his arms. This is how he had pictured the day after his wedding, not how it had turned out.

Robb presses a soft kiss to the back of her neck, pressing his hips closer to hers. "Stay with me today."

Her breathing picks up, her back arching slightly her bottom pressing against him. He can feel his blood rushing between his own legs, his lips tracing across her neck. She turns in his arms, pressing up against his chest. She stares up at him, cheeks flushed, lips parted as she breathes. She reaches up, her fingers tracing his jaw. Robb leans forward, gently pressing his lips to Raya's. He holds her close, her body relaxing against his.

It's been two months since their marriage, Raya and Robb settling into married life nicely. Robb has found more scars on Raya's body, but he doesn't bring them up. He doesn't want a repeat of what happened the morning after their wedding. They're all smaller scars, except the long, thin lines along the backs of her thighs. He desperately wants to know about them but he keeps quiet to avoid another incident. Raya doesn't bring them up and pretends not to notice when he falters upon finding a new one. Robb knows she's ashamed of the marks, but he doesn't care. He cares more about who inflicted them and why than the fact she has them. He wants to make whoever hurt her in such a way pay for it. He wants revenge on whoever harmed his wife so.

Although there's no love between them, Robb cares for Raya. It's beyond a sense of duty to her now as her husband. He knows he'd protect her, bring justice upon any who would think of laying a hand on her. He finds himself thinking about her when he's away from her side. When she's with his sisters, doing needlework while he trains, or when he's with his father being groomed to be the next Lord of Winterfell and she's with his mother, learning the affairs of the house, his thoughts are often drawn back to her. She's distant and keeps her walls up around him, and he finds himself wanting to tear them down. He wants to help her, see her for who she really is. He's gotten glimpses, moments where her guard has been down when she doesn't know he's looking. But quickly that guard is placed back up, and her inner self is hidden once again.

The only time she lets her guards down around him is when they're in bed. She doesn't resist him, doing her duties as a wife. He's sure if he had been the kind of man to force himself on her she wouldn't resist him then either. Someone had taught her what to do as a wife, but it still surprises her when he takes the time to prepare her, wanting it to feel just as good for her as it does for him. He's kind, taking his time, making love to her when they couple instead of a dutiful rutting to put an heir in her belly.

It's after they finish that he sees the marble facade crack, revealing the softness underneath. She lets him hold her, his hands careful to avoid the scarred places on her body. She relaxes in his hold, all the tenseness she holds during the day finally melting away. He sees a side to her, a side no one else sees. A side reserved for their most intimate moments.

She's up early that morning, removing herself from his arms quickly. He sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as she leans over the chamber pot, vomiting into it. She wipes her mouth, getting up to drink some water.

"Are you alright?" He asks her, frowning in concern.

She nods. "Yes. I wasn't feel well last night. I think dinner didn't quite agree with me."

He nods, lifting the blankets so she can lie down again. "Stay in bed today. I will let mother know you aren't feeling well."

She looks like she wants to argue with him, but she doesn't, acquiescing to stay in bed for the day. He gets up, fetching a maid to clean out the chamber pot, dressing himself. He leaves her with a kiss to her head, heading down to breakfast.

Catelyn comes up after breakfast, carrying a bowl of soup. Robb had told her of Raya's sickness that morning and she wants to check on the girl. She had grown fond of Raya during her time spent with the girl. She holds herself well and is very bright. She understands her duty as a wife and the future Lady of Winterfell. Raya's strong, just like her husband had reassured her. To survive sixteen years in a place devoid of many women was an honorable feat. She could count on one hand the times she'd met Roose Bolton, and every time she had been unnerved by him. He was a loyal vassal of her husband's, but she was not eager to stay in his company for long. Something about his presence concerned her. But Raya was not like him. She had never met the second, late Lady Bolton, but she could imagine she was a lot like Raya.

Raya is sitting up in bed when she enters Robb's room. She doesn't look ill, pale, but that was a normal complexion in the North. Raya smiles softly at her as she brings the soup over.

"I had the cook make you some stew. It's easy on the stomach." Catelyn says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Do you need me to fetch the Maester?"

Raya shakes her head, taking the stew. "No, thank you. I am feeling a little better now."

Catelyn nods. "Is this the first time this has happened?"

Raya nods, swallowing the bite of stew she took. "Yes. I was feeling unwell yesterday morning and the day before, but it passed quickly. This morning was the first time I was sick."

Catelyn quickly gets an idea of what's happening. It had been two months since the wedding, and she had overheard Robb discussing his bedroom life with the Greyjoy boy more than once in the training yard. Catelyn had been sick will all five of her pregnancies, the most with Sansa. She puts a hand on Raya's, leaning in closer despite the closed door.

"When did you bleed last?"

Raya seems taken aback by the question for a moment, but that's quickly replaced with shock as she thinks back. "I...It was before the wedding...a week before…" She looks up at Catelyn, unable to hide the worry behind her gaze. "I think I may need to see the Maester after all."


	6. Pregnancy and A Direwolf

Raya is sitting on the end of the bed when Robb enters his room that night. She's in her robe, staring into the fire. The flames dance across her face as she's lost in thought, paying no mind to him as he enters. For a moment he wonders if she heard him enter at all, his footsteps quiet so he doesn't startle her as he walks closer to the bed.

"I was ten years old." She begins speaking, startling him instead. He stills his movements, not wanting to interrupt her. "Domeric and I had been playing with the butcher's son. We had dared him to steal something from the baker without being caught, but he wasn't fast enough. My father was whipping in him the courtyard to punish him for stealing. I hated the idea of him being punished for something my brother and I made him do, so I tried to stop my father. Instead, my father turned the whip on me. He wanted to make sure I understood never to openly oppose him again."

Robb moves over to her side, sitting next to her. "Raya-"

"I was thirteen. I had been fooling around with one of my father's men's sons. Locke's son. My father caught us when he had his pants down around his ankles in front of me. My father was going to beat him bloody, but I took the punishment instead. My father bent me over my bed and hit me with a switch. Domeric couldn't stand seeing me getting punished, so he took half my punishment. Every scar I have, except this one," She traces the scar on the inside of her arm. "Was from my father inflicting some sort of punishment for something I did wrong, or something I did that made him upset."

Robb clenches his fists, feeling rage boiling up inside him. "I'll kill him. How dare he put his hands on you."

Raya grabs him before he can get up. "Robb, please. It's in the past now. Let's keep it there. Bringing it up now won't do any good."

"Why are you telling me this?" He asks, still angry, still wanting to enact his justice just like he had told himself he would when he found out.

She takes his hands in hers, keeping him on the bed. "All my life I knew I had to marry someone who wasn't like my father. Someone who wasn't cruel and calculating and wouldn't hurt my future children. Who wouldn't hurt them. Promise me, Robb. Promise me you won't be like him. Promise me you won't enact such cruelty on our child." She takes one of his hands, placing it on her stomach.

It takes him a moment, the rage still boiling in him but he feels it quickly dissipating as his mind catches up. "You're…" She nods, an unsure look on her face as she stares at him. "A big grin breaks out on his face and he pulls her into his arms. "I promise. I promise I will never lay a hand on you or our children." He pulls away from her, cupping her face. "How long have you known?"

She smiles at him, a genuine smile now. "I found out today. Your mother was the first to think of it. Maester Luwin says I'm close to two months now."

Robb grins happily, kissing her head. "We have to tell my family!"

Raya laughs, a sound he hasn't heard before. He finds he likes the sound, wanting to hear it all the time. "It's late. We can tell them at breakfast."

Robb pulls her in for a kiss, his arms wrapping around her. She presses close to him, opening herself to him. The rage he had been feeling is gone now, replaced by joy at this new revelation. He would be a father. Raya is pregnant with their child, and in less than eight months they'd have a child of their own. The thought makes his heart race in his chest, excitement filling him as he holds her. Perhaps this was the revelation they needed.

* * *

A change seems to come over Raya as the months pass by. Robb has never seen her quite like she is now. She smiles and laughs, her smile lighting up her face completely now instead of the tight, forced smiles she used to give. She had been more open with him too. After she had told him about her scars, the things she had experienced living in the Dreadfort, it was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Robb could see it. She no longer felt the need to try to hide from him. He had thought it ridiculous. He had known they were there since their wedding night, but he had let her have her sense of dignity and safety in trying to hide them. But since she had told him the truth, she no longer hid herself from him. She let him touch her, let him explore her smooth skin, and where the scars marred it. The wedge that had been sitting between them was gone, and he found himself drawn closer and closer to her. Raya's walls were coming down with each passing day, and she finds she doesn't mind.

She's beginning to show more and more as the weeks pass, her stomach swelling as their child grows. She can feel the baby now, moving in her womb. Robb often sat at night with her, his hand on her stomach trying to feel the baby. Every so often it would kick or push against his hand, and a bright smile would form on his face. He was just as excited as her, and just as nervous. He's not sure he'll be a good father. He had helped raise his siblings, and he had been under the careful hand of his father his entire life, but now facing the actuality of being a father himself...he's not sure he'll be good at it. Raya was sharing the same fear, not having a mother to look to for advice or model herself after. Her father's cruelty and stony disposition skewed her idea of parenting. She would not be treating her children as her father had treated her and her brother.

"You're thinking again." Robb says from his position next to her on their bed. She's on her back, hands smoothing over her rounded stomach.

She's nearly eight months along and starting to feel the weight of her pregnancy now. Her ankles are swollen and her back aches when she stands for too long. Walking is uncomfortable, and she often has to stop and rest when walking across the castle. Her desire for her child to leave her body has moved from excitement to have them finally with her and now to relief from the aches and pains she was having. She's constantly tired as well, sneaking away whenever she can to rest. She's sure more than once Lady Stark has let her be for longer than necessary so she can rest.

"Care to share what's on your mind?" Robb prods again, laying on his side next to her. He knows the tolls his child is taking on his wife's body. He can see it even when she doesn't know he can.

"Another month and we'll be parents. It's amazing how fast a month can pass when you're waiting for something."

"But it can also feel like it's taking a lifetime."

She turns her head, smiling at him. "It can. I will be glad when it is over. For both my sake and our child's. Not that being pregnant is not wonderful, but I am more than ready for our child to arrive."

Robb chuckles. "I am too. I'm terrified, but I am excited as well." She nods, wincing as the baby gives a particularly hard kick. "I think he agrees as well."

She shakes her head. "You're still convinced it is a boy?"

He nods. "I would bet on it."

She grins. "Septa Mordane says it will be a girl based on how I'm carrying her."

He laughs, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I will love them the same, regardless."

"As will I."

* * *

Raya may have been good at needlework, but it was not something she particularly enjoyed, especially with the baby as active as it was. She was not comfortable sitting for long periods of time, nor was she comfortable standing. She had learned she would resign her ability to be comfortable for the next month or two. Even after the birth there would be discomfort for a short time while her body readjusted. Her father had warned her of the pains of childbirth, but he had not been capable of warning her of the discomfort that came before. He also hadn't warned her of the constant need to make water. The baby had a habit of sitting in the wrong spot, making her feel as if her bladder is full.

This is one of those times.

She stands up from her stool, excusing herself as she feels the pressure in her bladder again. She's glad for a break from needlework, heading back to the Keep to find a chamber pot. Robb would be in the training grounds with the boys, helping Bran with his archery. She would have rather been there, but she was a lady, soon to be a mother. The training grounds was no place for her anymore.

She had just finished and was taking a moment to sit when Robb enters the room. He smiles at her, moving to grab his sword belt and cloak. "Avoiding needlework again?"

She smiles. "The baby has good timing." She watches him strap on his sword. "Is everything alright?"

"There was a deserter from the Night's Watch." She nods. She knew about what happened to deserters. Perhaps if she had not been pregnant, she would have gone too. Robb fastens his cloak before kneeling in front of her. "I will be back in a few hours." He kisses her softly, his hand on her stomach for a moment before he gets up, leaving her in his room.

* * *

She's still in Robb's room when he returns a few hours later. She had left for the midday meal, but had returned shortly after to rest. She was more exhausted than normal and had spent the day in bed. That's where Robb finds her, curled up in bed before dinner. She sits up when he enters, spotting the wiggling mass of fur in his arms. She gives him a questioning glance as he moves over to the bed, placing the mass on the furs. Raya gasps as she finally sees what it is.

"Robb…"

"We found them on our way back." He removes his sword and cloak before joining her on the bed. "Their mother was killed, skewered by a stag horn. Great big beast."

"There hasn't been a direwolf south of the Wall in…"

"Two hundred years." Robb finishes for her. "And now there are six. One for each of the Stark children, even Jon."

Raya watches the small direwolf pup as he sniffs around the furs. His own fur is light, almost white but his back is grey. Raya can't help but feel nervous as she watches the pup. He's young now, but he's still a wild animal. "Are you sure it is a good idea to have him around the baby?"

Robb looks up at her. "He is young. I will care for him and train him. We will not let him close to the baby until he has grown and is more well trained. We will certainly not let him near the baby unsupervised." He cups her cheek. "The baby is more important. If the direwolf poses any threat to the baby, then I will release him. I will not let any harm come to our child."

Raya nods, looking back to the direwolf. He's come closer to her now, sniffing at her stomach. She reaches out, running her hand over his small head. His fur is soft despite being caked with mud. He sniffs at her hand before licking her fingers, making her laugh. "I suppose it is worth a try. Does he have a name yet?"

Robb is silent for a moment, his hand running over the direwolf's back. "Grey Wind. His name is Grey Wind."

Raya smiles. "Remind me to approve of our child's name before it is made official."

Robb laughs, pulling her into his arms. "Hey! Grey Wind is not a bad name! Rickon was allowed to name his own direwolf himself. Grey Wind now has a brother named Shaggydog."

Raya can't help but laugh. "But he is just a boy! It is cute!"

Robb shakes his head, pulling Raya in for a quick kiss. "There was a raven that came from King's Landing as well. The Hand of the King, Jon Arryn died. He was a dear friend of my father's. The letter also said the King is riding North."

"The King?"

Robb nods. "With a large company no doubt. They will be slow moving, and will arrive within a month's time."

Raya sighs, putting a hand on her stomach. "I hope you have good timing, little one."


	7. It's Time

A rider had sent news back to Winterfell. The King would arrive the next day by midday. Raya realizes her child does not have good timing. It had started early that morning. She had woken up and thought the baby had kicked again at first, but this pain is different. Instead of a sharp ache this is a deeper kind of ache, lower in her stomach than where the baby sits. It's a pressure, long and slow and deep.

The pain passes after a few moments, but there's an uncomfortable feeling that won't pass. The sky is still dark, the castle silent. Raya knows what's happening without having to be told. She's not sure how long she lays there awake. The pain does not come again for a while as she lays there, counting her breaths. The sky is still dark, Robb lightly snoring next to her. The fire is low, Robb having gotten up in the night to stoke it back to life.

The second pain hits her a couple hours later, at her guess. The sky is just lightening, the inky blackness outside the window now a deep grey. She breathes as the pain rolls through her; the pressure pushing against her womb. The King would arrive on the morrow, and so would her child.

She carefully slides out of bed as the pain passes, pulling on her robe and slippers. Robb is still sound asleep, showing no sign he noticed her movements. She's quiet as she slips out the door, heading to the Maester's chambers. The castle is still quiet and dark, her candle lighting the way as she climbs the steps slowly. Maester Luwin is already dressed when he answers the door. He doesn't look surprised to see her, letting her enter his chambers.

"The pains have started." He says as she takes a seat near the fire. She hadn't needed to say anything. "How often?"

"One every couple of hours."

He nods. "I have no doubt your baby will come before the day is up. The pains will continue, and they will get more frequent. You need not worry until they are almost constant. There will be a rush of fluid and that is how you will know it is time. The best you can do now is work through the pains as they come. Keep someone close to you today. You do not want to be caught without help."

She nods, thanking the Maester before taking her leave. They had been waiting almost nine months for this day and it had finally arrived. Raya thought she would be excited, but she can't shake the fear. So much could go wrong in the next few hours. She's not sure she could handle something like that. She's not sure Robb could either.

Robb is sitting on the edge of the bed pulling on his boots when she gets back. Grey Wind is sitting by the door. He'd grown so quickly in the month they'd had him. All six direwolves had grown quickly. Grey Wind had proven to be a loyal companion. He followed Robb everywhere, and he'd follow Raya when he wasn't with Robb. He often laid his head in her lap, his nose pressed against her stomach as if he understood.

Grey Wind lets out a whine as she enters, Robb visibly relaxing. "I woke up, and you were gone."

She shuts the door, giving him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I went to see Maester Luwin. I had pains this morning. Different ones." Robb looks up at her as she approaches him. "He says the baby will be here before the day is up."

Robb wraps his arms around her once she's close enough, resting his forehead on her large stomach. "It's finally come then."

She nods. "Yes. Horrible timing really."

Robb chuckles. "At least you won't have to worry about greeting the King tomorrow."

"Hopefully he won't be insulted by my absence."

Robb shakes his head. "If the stories father told us are true, he won't mind. He has children of his own. He'll understand."

Raya nods, running her fingers through his auburn hair. She hopes their child looks like him. His big blue eyes, his hair. She traces the lines of his face as she looks at him, lost in his eyes. She's not sure if it's the pregnancy affecting her or if it's her own emotions she's feeling, but there's something warm, something blossoming in her chest as she looks at him. They had spent nearly a year together now, and while they had grown closer through her pregnancy, she had left her feelings at a fondness for him.

Robb stands from his seat on the bed, still holding her. In a matter of hours their baby would be in their arms. So much could happen in those few hours, but Robb was intent on making sure everything went smoothly. "Are you hungry?"

She shakes her head. "No. But I know I should eat."

Robb nods, offering his arm. "Breakfast will be ready soon. No doubt mother will want to know of the situation."

Raya nods, taking his arm. He leads her to the door, Grey Wind moving to follow. Robb goes to tell him to stay but Raya stops him. "Let him come. I'll feel better with him near."

Robb nods, leading her and Grey Wind down the stairs slowly, Grey Wind beside Raya the entire way, eyes watching carefully. It's a slow walk to the hall for breakfast, the sun rising behind a cover of clouds. The air is crisp and cool but Raya doesn't mind. She had been warm all morning, and the air feels nice against her heated skin. The hall is still relatively empty in the early hours of the morning, Robb sending a serving girl to fetch them food from the kitchens. Robb eases Raya onto a bench at a table for a moment. The ache that had been present since this morning is still throbbing, but she has yet to experience another of the more intense pains she had felt earlier. Robb sits beside her, gently rubbing her back.

"Are you alright?"

Raya nods. "Yes. I never realized how far of a walk it is until now."

Robb chuckles, kissing her head. "Mother said the same thing when she was pregnant with Rickon."

"She said it with all of her pregnancies."

Robb rises as his father approaches them with a smile. "Father. It is going to happen today." Robb can hardly contain his excitement.

Ned looks between the two. "You are sure?"

"Maester Luwin says the baby will come before the day is over, Lord Stark." Raya says.

"This is wonderful news." He turns to Robb. "Your mother is waking your siblings still. She will want to hear the news." Robb nods, squeezing Raya's shoulder before leaving the hall to find his mother.

Ned sits down on the bench beside Raya, offering her a kind smile. "Impeccable timing."

Raya laughs. "I know."

"Robert will understand. No doubt he will be happy to have an excuse for another celebration." It's silent between them for a moment. "Are you worried?"

Raya bites her lip for a moment. "Yes. I don't know how to be a mother. I barely know how to be a lady."

Ned smiles at her, taking her hand. "We can prepare all we want to be parents, but often we feel unprepared when the time comes. I did not know how to be a father when Robb was born. I thought it would be easy, but I found myself lost as to what to do. No one can really prepare themselves. Every child is different. Five times now I've found myself humbled when I was confident in my abilities to be a parent. Every child is a learning experience. I think you will do just fine as a mother."

Raya smiles at him. "Thank you, Lord Stark."

* * *

Robb stays with Raya for the rest of the day. Lady Stark had hoped the baby would come quickly and her labor would be short, but dinner had passed and there was no sign of the baby coming soon. Her pains were still nearly half an hour apart and showed no signs of change. She had taken to pacing about their room, Robb sitting on the bed feeling helpless. He wants to help her but he knows there's nothing he can do. Grey Wind lays in front of the fire, watching her as well. She breathes through the pains as they come; the night getting later.

Robb finally convinces her to lie down, helping her change into her nightgown before joining her in bed. Her breathing is heavy as she lays there, her eyes closed. He holds her hand, trying to offer her as much comfort as he can. Raya's discomfort is bad, and the pains are growing closer but they're taking their time.

"You should get some rest." She looks at Robb as another pain passes.

"I want to be here for you." He cups her cheek.

"I'll be alright. I promise I'll wake you."

He looks like he wants to argue but he sighs, nodding. He wraps an arm around her, leaning his head against her arm. He's out in a matter of minutes, but Raya can't find sleep. The pressure has increased now too, along with the pains. She lays awake for a long while, Grey Wind watching her while Robb sleeps.

Grey Wind rises a short time later, moving to her side. He sniffs at her stomach before sitting beside the bed, whining quietly. A pain shoots through her then, worse than the others she's felt, a rush of fluid coming out between her legs, soaking the bed. She gasps, shaking Robb's shoulder.

"Robb! Robb! It's time!" Robb jerks awake, sitting up. "Get Maester Luwin. It's time."


	8. Birth

Eddard Stark wakes when he hears feet running past the chambers he shares with his wife. It's still dark out, and he's not sure how long he had been asleep. Catelyn stirs next to him as he rises, pulling on a robe before going to the door. There's a knock just before he reaches it and he opens it to find Robb. He's breathing hard, and he looks disheveled.

"It's time." Robb breathes out. "Raya's going to have the baby."

Ned nods. "Did you send for Maester Luwin?"

"Yes. He's getting everything ready."

"Good. We'll be down shortly."

Robb nods before hurrying back down to his own chambers. Catelyn's already out of bed, pulling on her own robe and slippers. Ned nods to her as she moves past him, going to be with Raya. She had already decided she would be there for her good-daughter while she delivered the baby. Catelyn was fond of Raya, and while she had voiced her opinions about Ned's decision to marry her to Robb, she had seen how well they fit together. Despite the wedges they had between them during their first few months of marriage, she could see how much they cared for each other. Perhaps Robb would be lucky and find love with her after all. She knows how much her children had brought her and Ned together. Perhaps this was just what they needed.

* * *

Robb is sitting outside the room when Ned gets there. His other children, apart from Rickon are there with him. No doubt the ruckus and excitement had woken them. He pulls Sansa, Arya and Bran to the side, letting Jon sit with Robb. Ghost and Grey Wind are laying near the door to the room, both watching the movement in the hallway. Direwolves certainly were incredible creatures.

"You three go back to bed." Ned quiets their cries of indignation. "There's nothing you can do right now. Go try to get some sleep." He sends them back to their rooms, taking a seat next to Robb. He knows Robb would have preferred to be in the room with Raya. He had felt the same urge with the four births he had been present for. But Raya was in good hands. Maester Luwin had delivered all of Cat's children, and now he would deliver Raya's.

Raya feels as if she's being torn in half. The pain she had been in all day now felt like nothing compared to the pain she was in now. Lady Stark was there with her, dabbing at her face with a cold cloth. The pressure she had been feeling all day has increased. It's her baby, she realizes, trying to work his way out of her body. She desperately wants the pain to end, but Maester Luwin says there's still just a short while to go before it is over. Lady Stark had reassured her many times about Maester Luwin's capability to deliver her child. He had delivered all of Lady Stark's own children. Raya did not doubt his skill, she was more concerned about her own strength. She had not even pushed yet, and she was already exhausted.

"It's time for you to push now, my lady." Maester Luwin tells her.

Lady Stark takes her hand, squeezing it gently. "It will be over soon."

Raya takes a deep breath before finally pushing, crying out from the pain of her body stretching. It's the worst pain she's ever felt. Worse than the whipping, worse than the switch, worse than all the torture her father had put her through. Worse than losing her mother, worse than losing her brother. Worse than Ramsay's twisted actions towards her. Such a beautiful thing that came from so much pain. Perhaps that's the price for something so great. Beauty comes with pain. She had heard that once, one maid at the Dreadfort, one of Ramsay's favorites had said that. She thought it ridiculous. But what did she know of beauty?

The next hour of Raya's life is full of nothing but pain. She's tired, exhausted from the strain of pushing and the pain as her body forces her baby into the world. Lady Stark is there, offering her encouragements. Raya is glad she is there. Lady Stark had been nothing but kind to her, a wonderful help during her pregnancy. Raya had forgotten what it was like to have a mother, a kind, gentle hand there. She is glad to have such a strong, kind woman as her good-mother.

"I can't do it." Raya breathes, panting in between waves of pain. "I can't do it anymore."

Lady Stark shushes her. "You can. You are the strongest woman I have ever met. You survived sixteen years at the Dreadfort. You can do this."

Raya squeezes Lady Stark's hand as another wave of pain hits her, this one the most intense. She's sure she's being torn in half now, her body nearly lifting off the bed at the force of the pressure.

"The head is nearly out. Just a few more pushes, my lady." Maester Luwin tells her. It's almost done. It's almost over. Lady Stark was right. She had survived her childhood. She could survive this.

Raya pushes as Maester Luwin tells her, determined now to bring this child into the world. The pain is no less, but she fights it now, pushing it aside as she had during her punishments. Lady Stark keeps encouraging her, and with one final push the pressure between her legs eases. She takes a deep breath, falling back on the bed. It's silent in the room for a breath before a sharp wail replaces Raya's screams of pain. Raya nearly laughs with delight. Her child was here. Her child is with her now.

Lady Stark kisses her head, smiling at her. "You did it."

Maester Luwin cleans the baby, making sure everything is right before looking to Raya and Lady Stark. "It's a boy."

Raya smiles an exhausted smile. She had been right. She has a son now. Lady Stark dabs at her face with a cool cloth again, wiping away the sweat from her exertion. Maester Luwin swaddles the child before handing him to Raya. Raya takes him, Lady Stark showing her how to hold him.

Lady Stark looks down at her grandson. "Oh, he is beautiful."

Raya smiles down at him, holding him close to her chest as Maester Luwin cleans her up. "Yes, he is." She feels tears welling in her eyes. "My beautiful boy."

Lady Stark smiles at her fondly. "I will go and tell Robb the good news."

Raya nods, unable to tear her gaze from her son as Lady Stark rises, leaving the room. All three men waiting outside look to her as she steps out of the door. Ned is there with Robb, and Jon as well. Grey Wind and Ghost raise their heads as she exits, giving her inquisitive looks that match the ones from the men next to them. Robb stands to his feet, conveying the same emotions she's sure Ned had felt at Robb's own birth.

"It is a boy. You have a healthy son, Robb."

Robb breathes a sigh of relief, pulling his mother into a hug. He has a son. Not even a year married, not even Lord of Winterfell yet and he already has an heir. Raya had given him a son. He pulls away from his mother a little. "And Raya?"

Catelyn smiles at her son. "She did wonderfully. She certainly is a strong woman."

Robb smiles, breathing a sigh of relief. Raya is alright. There had been no complications as he had feared. He's eager to see her, to meet his son. He would have been in the room with her if it had been appropriate, but he had been stuck outside, listening to her pained screams. When they had stopped, he had swore his heart stopped with them. It had seemed an eternity had passed before he had heard the first cry of his son. For just a moment he had feared the worst, but all had been alright.

The door to the room opens again, Maester Luwin stepping out. "She is ready if you would like to come in."

Robb turns to his father who gives him a smile. "Go. Meet your son. Be with your wife. We will come by in the morning."

Robb nods, turning and going into his room. Raya is propped up on the bed, holding a bundle in her arms. He's never seen her look quite like she looks in that moment. The fire is roaring hot in the fireplace, the candles still lit about the room giving it a soft glow. Robb pauses for a moment, looking at Raya in the light. She seems to glow, more alive than he'd ever seen her. She's smiling, a soft, genuine smile at the bundle in her arms. Their son.

She looks up at him as he steps closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Our son."

Robb moves so he's sitting beside her, wrapping an arm around her. He looks down at his son, feeling his heart swell as he looks at the tiny bundle. He feels tears well in his eyes as he looks down at his son.  _His_ son. The words seem foreign in his mind. He'd been waiting for this day for nine months and still the words seem strange to him. He feels Raya's head shift, leaning against his arm as she looks at him.

Raya can see the love in Robb's eyes as he watches their son. Love. It's a strange concept to her. She doesn't remember what love feels like. She had seen it between Lord Stark and his wife, between the Stark children and their parents. She had seen it between the Stark children as well. But Raya could not remember what it was like to love, what it was like to feel loved. She did not think it would be possible for her and Robb to find love. She would have been happy accepting care, devotion, desire. But love had never been an idea for her in this marriage. But now, looking at Robb as he stares at his son she feels something. Something warm in her chest, something that chokes her, brings tears to her eyes as she stares up at her husband. She feels her heart fluttering in her chest, her stomach in knots. It's not like the nervous energy she'd had when she met Robb for the first time, nor when she had married him. Not the nervous feelings she'd had on their wedding night, the night their son was conceived. Not the nervous energy she'd felt when Robb had discovered her scars, nor the nervous feelings she'd had telling him the truth. This was something different, something foreign to her. No, it's not completely foreign. She'd felt it looking at her son too. She knows exactly what it is.

Robb turns his gaze to her, looking down at her with the same look he had been giving their son. She feels a tear slip down her cheek, the words leaving her lips without needing any prompting. No force, no second thought as she tears down the last of her walls, bearing her heart right in front of him. "I love you, Robb."

Robb smiles down at her, leaning down to kiss the tear that's sliding down her cheek away. "I love you too." He leans down further, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"Does he have a name, my lord?" Maester Luwin asks once they break apart.

Robb looks down at his son. He and Raya had discussed names a few days prior. They had put it off in fear of something happening, but they had given in and chosen their names. One for a girl, and one for a boy. "Edrick. His name is Edrick Stark."

Maester Luwin nods, bringing a cup over to Raya. "Milk of the poppy, my lady. For the pain."

Raya nods, looking up at Robb. "You'll have to hold him."

Robb nods, taking Edrick from Raya. He seems so small to Robb as he holds him in his arms. He supports his head as he had been taught to do with his siblings, looking down at the sweet face. He's got a tuft of dark hair already on his head. Perhaps he would take more after Raya after all. The bundle is warm in his arms, alive. He had pictured holding his son in his arms so many times. He'd dreamed it even. But those dreams had been nothing compared to holding his son.

Maester Luwin leaves them after Raya drinks the milk of the poppy. Robb knows he won't sleep again. The King would arrive in a matter of hours, the night nearly over now. He would have been glad to stay with his son, but as heir to Winterfell he had a duty he would have to do. The King would excuse his wife's absence, his father had told him. But his would not be so forgiven.

"Give my apologies to the king." Raya mumbles, the milk of the poppy doing its work as she already begins to drift off.

Robb kisses her head. "I will. Get some rest. You've done enough hard work today."


	9. The King's Arrival

The sun is up the next time Raya wakes. Just the very action of breathing makes her body scream in protest. She still feels as if she's being torn apart, her body protesting every small movement. She turns her head as the door opens, Robb slipping in. She can hear voices on the other side, Robb closing the door quickly.

"How do you feel?" He comes over to her side, kneeling on the floor beside the bed. "I can't hold them off for much longer."

She smiles. Of course her good-family would want to meet the newest Stark. "They can come in. They should meet him before they get caught up taking care of the king."

Robb nods, helping her sit up and put on a robe before opening the door, letting his family into the room. He goes to the crib, lifting Edrick out before carrying him over to Ned. "This is Edrick Stark. The newest addition to our family."

Robb lets his father hold Edrick, his mother moving to sit beside Raya and speak with her. "He looks just like you, Robb." Ned says, smiling down at his grandson. "I am proud of you, son. You are very lucky."

Robb smiles. "Thank you, father."

"Can I hold him?" Sansa asks, practically bouncing.

Ned smiles. "Yes, but be careful."

Ned shows her how to hold him, both Sansa and Arya looking down at their new nephew. "He's so beautiful." Sansa says.

"And tiny." Arya says.

"You were all that tiny once." Ned says, Edrick starting to wiggle.

"I think he wants his mother again." Robb says, taking Edrick from Sansa, bringing him to Raya. She smiles up at him as she takes him, holding him against her chest.

Bran and Rickon sit on the bed next to Raya, looking at Edrick. Catelyn reminds them to be gentle, all the Stark children seeming to be in awe of Edrick. Raya can see why. He's all Robb: dark hair and bright blue eyes. Raya can't help but smile at him, the same feeling coming over her when she looks at Robb. Love. That's what the feeling is.

"Come now, it is time to get ready to greet the king. You will all be able to spend time with Edrick later." Catelyn says.

Ned helps herd his children out of the room, giving the new parents some privacy. Catelyn promises to send some soup and a wet nurse up to help Raya.

Raya turns to Robb when they're finally alone. "Where is Jon?"

"In his chambers most likely."

"I want him to meet Edrick too. He's just as much a Stark as the rest of you."

Robb nods, a smile tugging at his lips before he descends to Jon's chambers, bringing him up a few moments later. Jon enters hesitantly, Raya offering him a smile. Raya had always been kind to him in the short time she'd been in Winterfell. It's strange to him, but he remembers she has her own bastard brother and understands what it is like.

"Would you like to hold him?" She asks softly, smiling at Jon.

Jon gulps, looking to Robb before nodding. He had only held Rickon once, not in the presence of Lady Stark. Raya helps him get Edrick situated in his arms before she lets him go, letting Jon hold him. He's so small and warm in Jon's arms, every bit of him Robb. There was no doubting he favored his father. Jon can't help but feel a sharp pang of jealousy rising in him as he looks down at the newborn in his arms. He had never dreamed of having a family, his fear of having his own bastard children keeping him from pursuing any woman despite Theon's constant heckling. He had tried once, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He had already decided he wouldn't have a life like that. The girls in Winterfell were constantly looking, constantly following him but he can't bring himself to picture a life with a wife and children. It came so easy to Robb, and already Robb was a father.

"He's beautiful." Jon says, smiling down at the boy. As much jealousy as he feels looking at his nephew, he can't deny the boy's charms already. He's certainly Robb's son. "I'm happy for you both."

Robb smiles, taking Edrick as Lady Stark returns with stew. She pays no mind to Jon in the room, focusing instead on Raya. Jon takes his leave, unable to rid himself of the bitter feeling in his stomach. Robb stays with Raya until the nurse arrives, knowing he has to prepare to greet the king as well. He leaves Raya reluctantly, but in good hands, Raya eating her stew despite not feeling like it but she knows she needs the energy. The stew warms and relaxes her, her body succumbing to sleep once again.

* * *

Raya wakes before the King arrives. Robb has just entered the room, Edrick in his crib near the bed fussing. Raya goes to sit up, but her entire body protests and she stills, easing herself back against the pillows. Her entire body aches from the stress of the night before. She had always hated milk of the poppy, but now she would welcome some gladly.

"Don't get up. I'll have the wet nurse come." Robb says, turning to go to the door.

"No." Robb stops short, turning back to his wife. "I'll do it."

"Raya-"

"He's my son. I'll feed him. No sense in letting it go to waste." She can already feel the wetness on the front of her nightgown, her body responding to the cries of her son.

Robb picks Edrick up gently. He's clean shaven now, his hair slicked back as it had been when she'd first met him and for their wedding. She finds she prefers his hair messy. The wild curls and the scruff on his face make him seem older. Robb sits on the edge of the bed, passing Edrick to her. She unlaces the front of her nightgown, freeing a breast for Edrick. Robb watches her smiling softly. He's not sure if she remembers her confession the night before. Or if she had meant it. It could have been said in a moment of bliss, of happiness and joy at the birth of their son. He wants to believe she really loves him, but he does not want to bring it up and risk it not being true.

"Did I miss the king yet?"

Robb shakes his head. "No. He'll be riding through the gates in a few minutes."

"You'd better go, then. One of us has to be there, and your father would prefer it be you."

Robb nods, hesitating for a moment longer. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to her lips before standing. "I'll come back as soon as I can."

Raya nods. "You can send a maid in to sit with me if it will make you feel better."

Robb smiles, nodding before taking his leave, not without a glance back at Raya. Edrick is sucking hungrily at her breast, Raya watching him with a smile on her face. Her son. Her sweet boy, just as she had imagined. She feels love swelling in her heart as she watches him, his big blue eyes, his father's eyes, staring up at her. She shoves aside her fears, feeling the love swelling in her heart as she watches her son.

* * *

Nearly the entire castle is there to greet the King, except for the kitchen staff and a handful of maids to help Raya should she need it. Robb is standing at the front with his family, the king's party riding into the gates. He watches them, distracting himself from thinking about Raya and their son. He watches as Prince Joffrey rides in, following his gaze back to Sansa next to him. Sansa is staring at him with a small smile on her face. Robb finds he'd rather be thinking about his wife now. Sansa had been going on about marrying Joffrey for the past month. Ever since their father had told them of the king and his family riding for Winterfell, Sansa had been sure the king would want her to marry Joffrey. Sansa had always been the romantic, dreaming of knights and princesses and happy endings. Robb loves his younger sister, but he wishes she would be more sensible.

The wheelhouse enters next, the King riding in after it. The courtyard drops to a knee as the king rides in, climbing off his horse with the help of a couple stable boys. The King approaches the line of Starks, stopping in front of Ned. He motions for them to stand, the courtyard rising to its feet again.

"Your Grace." Ned bows to the king.

Robert looks over his old friend. "You've got fat." It's silent between them for a moment, Ned giving Robert a look before Robert bursts out laughing. They embrace each other as old friends, Robert greeting Catelyn with a hug next. "Nine years. Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?"

"Guarding the North for you, your grace. Winterfell is yours."

Robert moves down the line of Starks, stopping at Robb. "Who have we here? You must be Robb." Robb nods, shaking the king's hand. "I heard you got married within the last year. Where is your wife?"

"My lady wife apologizes for her absence, your grace. She gave birth to our son last night and was not feeling well enough to be here."

Robert smiles. "More congratulations are in order, then. I can't wait to meet him."

"Thank you, your grace."

Robert greets the rest of the Starks, the Queen coming forward to be greeted by Ned and Catelyn. Robert demands to be taken to the crypts, Ned having no choice to acquiesce to the demand. The courtyard erupts into movement then, everyone going to do their assigned duties. Catelyn stops Robb, leading some king's men with the royal family's travelling crates to the guest house.

"Go and be with Raya. I expect to see you at the feast tonight."

Robb nods. "Of course, mother."

Robb leaves the chaos of the courtyard, making his way back up to his chambers to be with Raya and Edrick. He would never have left if he had the choice, but he had his duties. He knows Raya wants to do her own, be by his side as his wife, but she can't. She would be relieved to know the king had taken her absence well as his father had said he would. He takes the stairs two at a time, wanting to get back to his wife and his son.

* * *

Raya watches Robb prepare for the feast. Edrick was asleep in his crib for the time being. He had only cried a few times during the afternoon, a quiet baby the wet nurse had told her. Robb had spent all the time he could with Raya and Edrick, wanting to be there for them, be there for his son. Raya had sent a raven to the Dreadfort, telling her father of the arrival of his grandson and the king as well. Her father had been pleased when she told him of her pregnancy nine months ago, and he would be pleased to hear she had bore Robb a son.

The sky is getting dark when Robb cleans himself up for the feast. Raya watches as he tries to smooth out his hair. She had mussed it as soon as he had walked through the door after greeting the king. He had laughed, shaking his head at her antics. She had done the same on their wedding night too. Something about preferring the wild curls. Both of them hope their son shares the same curls.

A maid knocks on the door as Robb prepares to leave, coming to sit with Raya and assist her should she need it. Robb knows it's only a matter of time until Old Nan joins them too. She had lived to see four generations of Starks now, or possibly five depending on who you asked. No one quite knows how old she is, but they know she's the oldest in Winterfell. All the Stark children are familiar with her, and now Edrick would be before too long.

Robb kneels by the bed again as Raya feeds Edrick. "I'll try to slip away as soon as I can."

Raya smiles at him. "You don't have to. You can stay as long as you want. Just try not to have too much fun without me."

Robb smiles at her, kissing her head, then Edrick's. "I'll send food up for you two." He kisses her once again before taking his leave, going to the Great Hall for the feast.


	10. Meeting the King

The wine Robb drank at the feast has warmed his blood. He doesn't feel the bite of cold in the air as he makes his way to the Keep. The feast is still going, but he was getting tired and he wanted to be with Raya. He misses having her at his side, and as much as he enjoyed being with his family, he wanted his wife and his son close.

He opens the bedroom door, entering quietly. Raya is relaxed on the bed where she'd spent the day, her head turning to look at him as he enters. He smiles softly at her, dismissing the maid for the night. Edrick is fast asleep in his crib, Robb watching him for a moment before stripping out down to his smallclothes. He joins Raya on the bed, carefully laying down next to her to not jostle her too much. He lays down on his side, leaning his head in his hand as he stares down at her.

"How was the feast?" She asks him, smiling up at him.

"Not all that exciting. The king got drunk and fondled a serving girl. Arya threw food at Sansa again."

"So aside from the King it was like a normal dinner?"

Robb laughs. "Just with more people."

Raya laughs, but she quiets quickly. He can see her thinking about something, her brow furrowing slightly like it always does when she's lost in thought. "I meant what I said last night." She finally says. Robb stays quiet, letting her continue. "After Edrick was born. I-I'm not sure what love is. I don't think I've ever felt it...it was never shown to me it that I can remember. Not until I met you. Watched your family, your mother and father...I never thought I would get that. I never thought...I can't even describe it. It's...it's this feeling in my chest, this warmth, this-this pressure that makes me feel like I will burst and I want to laugh and cry and my body feels strange whenever I feel it and it's not just because of the pregnancy or Edrick-"

Robb cuts her off, pressing his lips to hers. She relaxes as he kisses her, her hand tangling in his hair. "It's okay. You're not supposed to be able to describe love. It's something you just feel." He cups her cheek, looking down at her. "I meant what I said too. I'm in love with you as well. I have been for a while now. I was afraid to tell you, afraid I might scare you away."

Raya shakes her head. "I'm not going anywhere, Robb. I'll be by your side for the rest of my life. I made that promise when I married you. And I intend to keep it."

Robb smiles at her, stroking her cheek for a moment before bringing his lips to hers again.

* * *

Raya is determined to get up the next day. She's still sore and bleeding some, but she's determined to finally greet their royal guests, and let Edrick get a view of Winterfell that's not just his parent's room. Robb doesn't want her to push herself, but he can't convince her otherwise. She's made her mind up and there's no changing it.

She's slow going, Robb by her side as she makes her way down the stairs and out of the Keep. It's nearly midday, the castle alive with more people than Raya's ever seen in Winterfell. The King really had brought as many men and Robb had said. Even if Raya had not been moving so slow because of the pain, she would have been because of the many times she's stopped. Everyone wants to get a look at Robb's son, and Raya gladly lets them. She can see Robb beaming with pride every time someone compliments their son and congratulates them. Raya hasn't seen him so happy before, and she finds she likes it. She feels proud as well. She had made him like that. She had made him happy.

Robb leads her towards the Great hall, ambling for her sake. "The king is excited to meet you."

"Oh, good." Raya says, swallowing nervously.

"Don't be nervous. King Robert isn't as bad as you think."

"Easy for you to say. Your father is like a brother to him."

Robb gives her a reassuring look. "It will be fine. If things go bad, we'll just show him Edrick. Everyone loves looking at babies."

Raya lets Robb escort her into the hall. The king is sitting at the head table with Lord Stark and another man Raya does not recognize. Guards line the hall, both Stark men and men from King's Landing. All eyes turn to them as they enter, King Robert rising from his spot at the head of the table. He's bigger than Raya's father had painted him to be, but the last time her father had seen the king was nine years before during the Greyjoy Rebellion.

"So this is the woman who is causing almost as much uproar around here as I am." The king says, Robb and Raya coming to a stop in front of him.

"My wife, Lady Raya." Robb says.

Raya dips into a small curtsy, pushing away the ache still between her legs. "It's an honor, your grace."

The king studies her. "What house did you come from?"

"Bolton, your grace." Raya answers.

"Bolton? You're pretty for a Bolton."

Raya smiles. It's not the first time she's heard that. "Thank you, your grace. I've been told I take after my mother."

"Which wife was she?"

"The second. Bethany Ryswell."

The king nods. "I never had the chance to meet your mother, or his first wife for that matter. I've met Roose Bolton a handful of times. Always unnerved me."

"He has that effect, your grace. It's his eyes."

The king laughs, Edrick fussing. "And this must be the little one causing all the fuss around here."

Robb smiles proudly at Raya. "Our son, your grace. Edrick Stark."

"Let me see him." Raya hesitates for a fraction of a second before passing Edrick to the king. The king is surprisingly tender as he holds the newborn, looking down at him. "Cute little thing. Looks like his father. He'll be a strong one indeed." Raya takes Edrick back from the king, thanking him. "Come, it's almost time for the next meal of the day." The king turns back around, making his way back to the table.

Raya hadn't noticed the servers bringing in food already. She was hungry, not having much of a stomach for food the day before. Raya passes Edrick to his nurse before letting Robb lead her to the table. They're joined by the rest of the Starks and the Baratheons before too long. Robb keeps her pressed close against his side during their meal, Raya conversing with the queen about Edrick. She's not as intimidated as she thought she would be at meeting the royal family. As a Bolton, the closest she'd thought she'd get to meeting royalty would be meeting the Starks. But now she is a Stark and having dinner with the king and his family. It's far more than she'd ever thought she'd get the chance to do in her life. Getting married to the heir of Winterfell and having children, talking with the queen about her son over lunch. It's more than she could have ever expected from her life.

* * *

Edrick is fussy that night. Both Robb and Raya have done everything they can think of to try to quiet him, but nothing seems to work. He'll quiet for a moment before he'll fuss once again. Currently Robb is pacing the room, gently rocking Edrick in his arms. Raya's stretched out on the bed, watching him.

"I don't know what to do, Robb." She says, her eyes following him across the room. "We've tried everything. He's not hungry, he doesn't need to be changed, he's not tired."

Robb moves to the side of the bed, sitting down. "Mother said babies are the most fussy for the first month, sometimes two. She said Sansa screamed nearly every day for two months. Edrick is only two days old now, almost."

Raya sighs. "We've got a long way to go."

Robb nods. "We do. But it will go fast."

Raya smiles, resting her head on Robb's shoulder. "But we'll be there for him. For every step and word and every laugh and every tear that's shed." Robb rests his head on hers as Edrick yawns. "No matter what happens, we'll be there."

Robb kisses the top of her head. "We will be."


	11. Tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!

Raya does not want to rise from the bed. She’s warm and content in Robb’s arms and Edrick is still quiet. Light is coming in through the window and she knows Robb will wake soon. The King would leave on the morrow and had commanded a hunt for a boar for his departure feast. Robb would go on the hunt which would leave her with hardly anything to do. She knew the proper thing would be to spend time with the guests that would not be going on the hunt, but she would rather stay in bed with Robb all day. 

 

Raya reaches a hand up, gently tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the stubble on his face tickle her fingers. It had grown back after Lady Catelyn had required him freshly shaven for the King’s arrival. He was still asleep, his face relaxed instead of drawn up in concentration like it usually is when he’s awake. She lets her hand fall from his face, laying it on his chest as she rests her head back down. She can feel the steady beat of his heart under her hand, almost lulling her back to sleep again. 

 

But Edrick’s whines bring her right back as he wakes up. She slides carefully out of Robb’s hold, going over to the crib near the bed. Grey Wind lifts his head from the spot in front of the hearth, watching her with careful eyes. She scoops Edrick up, gently rocking him as she moves over to the basin of water. She cleans him up before going back to the bed, taking a seat. She lets one strap of her nightdress fall, letting Edrick eat as she leans back against the headboard. 

 

The bed shifts a little, and she turns to look at Robb. He’s awake now, lying on his side looking up at her. She can see he’s still groggy with sleep, eyes half closed as he raises a hand to run a finger through the dark hair on Edrick’s head. “He’s going to look like you.” 

 

Raya glances down at him. “He already looks like you. I hope every part of him is like you. His heart, his soul.” 

 

Robb cups her chin, sitting up more so he’s eye to eye with her. “I will make sure he is. I will teach him well, teach him as I was taught. I will make him the best man he can be.” 

 

Raya smiles at him, blinking back tears. “I love you.” 

 

Robb leans forward, pressing his lips to Raya’s. “And I love you.” 

 

Raya holds him there for a moment, wanting to make this moment last as long as possible. “Do you have to go?” 

 

Robb smiles. “It is required of me. Though I would rather stay here with you.” 

 

Raya runs her fingers through his curls before he rises from the bed, pulling on his clothes. She stays where she is, admiring him as he pulls on his hunting clothes. She did not want to part from him, wanting to stay by his side with Edrick for the rest of time but she knew it was not possible for either of them. In the next few days he would take up mantle as Lord of Winterfell and she would have to get back to assisting with the care of the house soon. She wished she had more time to just be with Edrick and Robb, to soak in all the emotions tugging her every which way but it seemed fate would not let things play out that way. 

 

*****

 

Raya is with the rest of the Stark family in the hall when the hunting party returns. News had spread fast and Raya and Jon had gathered Rickon, Arya and Sansa in the hall to wait for news from Maester Luwin or the hunting party to return. Rickon had curled himself into Raya’s side, clutching at her skirt in his worried confusion, Arya and Sansa sitting near the fire with Jon standing on the other side of them. The room is quiet aside from Edrick’s occasional fussy noises, and the shift of a direwolf changing positions on the hall floor.

 

All of them jump when the door nearly flies open, Robb and Theon entering. Lord Stark had gone up to Bran’s room to be with his son and check on his condition. 

 

“What happened?” Robb asks, coming over to Raya, but his eyes are on the rest of the room. 

 

“Bran fell from the broken tower. He was climbing it, must have lost his grip high up.” Jon says, keeping his gaze on the far wall. 

 

Even in the year that Raya had lived in Winterfell she knew how good of a climber Bran was. She’d witnessed it many times and overheard many scoldings and half-hearted promises of not to climb ever again. 

 

“He’s climbed that tower a thousand times.” Robb says, sitting beside Raya, wrapping his arms around her and Edrick. “It’s impossible.” But even he doesn’t sound convinced. 

 

Bran was getting older. A stone that may have held him two years ago may not have been able to hold his weight now. The broken tower wasn’t looked after like the rest of the castle. It crumbled a little more every year. Many things could have happened and now Bran was fighting for his life because of one little misstep. 

 

Raya lets Robb take Edrick, Robb pulling his son close to his chest. Raya leans her head against his shoulder, her free arm wrapped around Rickon at her side. The room descends into silence for a while before the doors open again, Lord Stark entering. His face is drawn, his shoulders tense. 

 

“What does the Maester say?” Robb asks, holding Edrick close to his chest. 

 

Lord Stark takes a seat facing the occupants of the room, his shoulders drooping as he stares at the floor for a moment. “It’s hard to say right now. The next few days are the most dangerous.”

 

“Is he going to die?” Sansa asks, a small waver in her voice. 

 

Lord Stark shakes his head. “No. Bran is a strong boy. There’s still a chance he’s going to wake. But he won’t ever walk again.” 

 

A heavy feeling settles in the room and Raya feels her breath constrict in her throat for a moment. Robb’s body tenses, his grip tightening around Edrick enough that he lets out a small cry but Robb quickly relaxes some. 

 

“Our departure will be delayed for a few days, just until the most dangerous time for Bran has passed.” He takes a deep breath. “Don’t worry yourselves too much. Bran will be alright.” 

 

******

 

Raya sits in the Godswood for the rest of the day. She doesn’t want to infringe on her good-family’s time with Bran. She knows how strong Bran is, she’d spent a year with him and watched him grow even just in that year. All the Stark children were strong in their own ways. They were the pure definition of a Northerner, renowned for their strength and hardiness. To think Bran could die so quickly and so suddenly sends a chill down her spine, sets a cold dread biting at her very bones. She sits on a root of the heart tree, holding Edrick to her chest. She had been so full of glee, flying high with the wonder of her son’s birth. She’s no stranger to death, no stranger to the horrors of the world but Edrick’s arrival had blinded her to that harsh reminder of their mortality. How easily a life can end, how easily those you love can be taken from you. 

 

The thoughts have fear sending an icy chill through her veins. She looks down at her son’s face, his eyes open and staring at her. Tully blue orbs, just like his father’s practically burn a hole into her face. Maester Luwin had told her babies cannot see well for the first few months of their lives, anything more than a foot away from them lost. But Edrick stares at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She would have preferred him to cry or smile at her then, but his face remains unreadable to her. She runs a hand over his tiny head, feeling the soft downy dusting of dark hair on his head, hair she knows will fade into a deep auburn like his father’s. He would be every inch his father’s son just as she predicted.  

 

She stands from her spot, knowing it must be near dinner. She had missed the mid-day meal, but had taken care to feed Edrick. He ate more than a starving man every day, but Maester Luwin said to be more concerned if he wasn’t eating. She cradles her son as she makes her way out of the Godswood, heading for the keep. She doesn’t know if the king will dine with them again, so she had better clean herself up. 

 

She rounds a corner, her eyes on the ground in front of her, leading her to nearly walk right into the golden knight himself. His hands steady her, her grip on Edrick tightening just a moment. 

 

“Forgive me, Ser, I was not watching where I was walking.” 

 

“The fault is mine, my lady. I was not paying attention.” He flashes her a smile that surely would have charmed her a few years ago when she had been younger and more enthralled by the idea of men paying attention to her. “Terrible thing that has happened. But you are not with them.” It’s phrased more as a question, but it’s hard to tell. 

 

“I’ve lived with them a year and they feel more like my family than my own every did, but I did not feel it right to impose in this situation.” 

 

“Despite one’s standing in a family there will always be times when one feels like an outsider.” He gives her a grim smile but his eyes aren’t focused on her. “Such an accident is a brutal reminder of how quickly and easily they can slip from our very grip.” 

 

His words send a cold chill through her, freezing her stomach into a hard lump. She tightens her hold on Edrick, her gaze never leaving Jaime’s face. Something about it unnerves her. Something about him unnerves her. She could stand the cold, lifeless stare of her father and the unhinged manic light in Ramsay’s eyes but she can’t hold Jaime’s gaze. The unnerving glint in them, the narcissistic gaze of a man who knows he’s in control of every situation. 

 

“I will see you at dinner, then?” 

 

Raya tries to calm her racing heart, her voice wavering slightly. “Ye-Yes. I will be there.” 

 

She soothes the desire to race to the keep, feeling his gaze against her back as she crosses the courtyard. She doesn’t breathe until she’s inside, the warm air in the keep easing the chill in her bones to a point. Some of that chill is not from the brisk northern air outside. 

 

Robb is sitting on the edge of their bed when she enters their room. His face is drawn, eyes squinting slightly as he holds back his tears. He holds his arms out for Edrick once she closes the door and she passes her son to his father. He holds Edrick close, looking down at his face. 

 

“It feels so surreal.” He says after a few moments. “Just this morning I said goodbye to Bran and now he could be on his deathbed.” 

 

Raya shushes Robb, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Your father said there’s still a chance. Bran is strong. You know that.” 

 

“He’s just a boy.” Robb’s voice trembles with unshed tears, his gaze on the wall across from him. “Even if he wakes, he’ll never walk again. He wanted to be a knight.” 

 

Raya wraps her arms around Robb, his face resting against her stomach as his shoulders shake with his sobs. One of her hands cradles his head, holding him there as he cries. His free arm wraps around her, holding her against him, his other arm holding Edrick close. Raya blinks back her own tears, relying on the strength she used to survive the Dreadfort to support her husband now. She needed him more than ever, and she would be there. 

 


End file.
